


No Grave Can Hold My Body Down

by callusedsilk



Series: Work Song [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier - Fandom, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Depression, F/M, IF YOU NEED SOMETHING TAGGED PLEASE ASK AND I'LL ADD IT, M/M, Multi, Only Ever Consensual Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sex, Steve Rogers Isn't An Idiot, Violence, a lot won't matter, i ignore a lot of canon tbh, i'll let you know what movies are going to matter in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 153,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callusedsilk/pseuds/callusedsilk
Summary: After being held captive for almost seventy years, neither Vivian Peshkova or Bucky Barnes had much hope of saving the other from Hydra's grasps. Hydra itself believed their ultimate victory was well within their grasp.Steve Rogers emerging from the ice changed everything.





	1. One: 2011

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part 3 of this trilogy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Steve is ridiculously sad. That's about it.

“Curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So the Dodgers are tied, 4-4.” 

Steve slowly woke to the sound of a radio, and for a moment it was like he was in a fog as he listened. Baseball. Dodgers. He’d been having a dream, a good dream about being back with Buck and Viv. A dream of being home.

“And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow’s capable of making it a band-new game again.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly and he tilted his head more toward the radio as the voice continued, “Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field. The Phillies have managed to tie it up at 4-4, but the Dodgers have three men on.”

Glancing around him, Steve saw that he was in a room somewhere. He had been changed out of his Captain America uniform and into some khakis, SSR shirt, and also boots. He was laying in bed with boots on. Hell, he wasn’t even laying in bed. He was laying _ on _ the bed, on top of the blankets. Carefully and slowly sitting up, Steve then frowned further as the radio continued, “Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month. Wouldn’t the youngster like a hit here to return the favor? Pete leans in. Here’s the pitch. Swung on. A line to the right. And it gets past Rizzo.”

Steve felt like his entire body was tensing up the more he heard from the radio. Staring at it confusion, Steve glared as the radio continued, “Three runs will score! Reiser heads to third. Durocher’s going to wave him in. Here comes the relay, but they won’t get him.”

Glancing up at the door as a woman walked in, Steve braced himself for a fight. None of this was right, and he had no idea who had him. Had the enemy managed to get him after he’d crashed the plane?

“Good morning,” she said with a smile. She then glanced at her watch, “Or should I say afternoon?”

“Where am I?” Steve asked, trying to keep himself calm.

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City,” she replied.

“The Dodgers take the lead, 8-4. Oh, Dodgers!” Steve glanced away from her to glance at the radio as it continued, “Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game, indeed.”

“Where am I really?” Steve demanded, flicking his gaze back to her.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she replied nervously.

“The game,” Steve bit out. “It’s from May, 1941. I know, ‘cause I was there.”

The woman’s expression immediately faltered and Steve slowly stood up from the bed, moving forward as he insisted, “Now, I’m going to ask you again. _ Where am I_?”

“Captain Rogers…” she began as the door opened behind her.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded.

Armed men then came through the door and Steve thought about it for about five seconds before he moved into action. A kick to the chests sent both men flying through the wall, the whole thing falling apart like it was made of paper. Running out, Steve didn’t understand _ what _ he was seeing as he saw a much larger room and screens with footage of New York on them. Turning, he decided he didn’t really care and just _ ran_, ignoring the agent shouting for him to wait.

Pushing through the door, he rushed out into a lobby where dozens of people were, wanting to curse as he heard loudly overhead, “I repeat. All agents, code 13!”

Turning and running, Steve shoved people out of his way before running out of the building and onto the busy street. Once he was there, he glanced back and forth, not recognizing any of the cars before he just picked a direction and _ ran_. He jogged to a stop though as he came to an intersection and he realized with a shock that there were so many lights and ads everywhere. Some of those images were moving. Color images were moving. Where was the projector for the images? How were they so high up? Noise was coming from everywhere and he felt nauseous. It was too much.

Cars began pulling up as people stared at him. Bracing himself for the unknown, Steve watched as his escape routes were blocked and a man got out of one of the vehicles while shouting, “At ease, soldier!”

The man was bald and had an eye patch. His entire outfit was head to toe black and while he wasn’t in any uniform, Steve could tell this man was in charge of something. He had that kind of presence to him, and there was at least a dozen people in suits who’d just let him walk forward while they kept what appeared to be civilians at bay.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded.

“Colonel Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” the man announced, moving closer still. “You would have known us as the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”

“Where am I?” Steve asked.

“46th and Broadway,” Fury said, glancing back and forth.

Frowning, Steve glanced around, stunned by that information. He knew that part of New York. He’d been there before with Viv and Buck. Not very often, but he’d been there, and this looked _ nothing _ like what he remembered. None of it did.

“I’m sorry about that little show back there, but we didn’t know what your mental state might be, so we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

Glancing back at Fury, Steve demanded, “Break what?”

“You’ve been asleep, Cap,” Fury said after a beat. “For almost 70 years.”

Steve felt his stomach clench and his heart ache at that. _ Almost seventy years_. The number _ seventy _ filled his mind and consumed his senses and he felt his breathing increase. Forcing himself to stay calm once again, he steadied himself before he, almost breathlessly, asked, “How am I still alive?”

“Well, to be honest with you, we don’t really know,” Fury said with a sigh. “My docs say it was suspended animation. Could be Erskine’s formula, the extreme cold. Maybe a combination of the two. I don’t know.”

Steve took deep, calming breaths, forcing himself to stay focused as he asked, “What about the war? Did we win?”

“Hell yes! Unconditional surrender,” Nick Fury said proudly. “Taking down Hydra was a big part of that.” Fury then looked him dead on, “But the world hasn’t changed all that much. There’s still a lot of work to be done. A soldier’s work.”

Steve felt his heart sink. Of course that’s what Fury wanted, what S.H.I.E.L.D wanted. They didn’t give a shit about Steve Rogers. No, they wanted Captain America. And he’d gotten so close to just being _ done _ with fighting.

“The world can still use a man like you, Cap,” Fury added.

_ Cap_. He hadn’t called him Steve or Rogers or Steve Rogers once. Just cap or soldier. And maybe that was all that was left of him. Half of him had died with Vivian and the other half had fallen into that deep ravine with Bucky. Swallowing hard as Fury held out his hand, Steve took it, clasped it tightly as he wondered whether those thoughts would consume him.

“There’s a place here for you,” Fury said.

Their hands then fell to their sides and Steve glanced around again, wondering why he hadn’t been allowed to join Viv and Buck in the afterlife, why he’d been stuck here on Earth without them _ seventy years _ in the future.

“Sure you’re all right?” Fury asked casually.

Steve wanted to scream, wanted to sob, wanted to punch that man for even asking such a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t all right. Of course he wasn’t. He’d lost everyone and the places that used to be home now felt like they were from some far off land in a story. This wasn’t _ his _ New York. These weren’t his streets. This wasn’t _ his _ home.

“Yeah,” Steve lied after a pause. “Yeah, I just…I had a date.”

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the headquarters. Call it a mission debrief,” Fury insisted, waving him over.

Steve reluctantly followed, getting into the back of an SUV after the door was opened for him. The seats in the vehicle were leather, and he frowned at the buckles. The agent who got into the seat next to him cleared his throat before explaining, “Oh, right, sorry. That’s a seatbelt. They became standard in cars in the late 1950s. You’re supposed to buckle yourself in. It’s the law.”

The agent then made a show of buckling his own seatbelt to the point where Steve _ almost _ wanted to just tie the damn thing in a knot just to annoy the man, but instead Steve buckled himself in. The drive _ back _ to the building he’d run away from was otherwise quiet and once they got there, he was ushered to an elevator. The elevator ride was then silent and once they reached the floor, Steve found himself back outside again, but this time on the roof. A helicopter was parked and Fury announced, “Now, since you don’t seem to appreciate a good show, I’m going to tell you now that the destination that helicopter is going to is known as the retreat.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked with a frown.

“A cabin,” Fury confessed. “It’s secluded and if you agree, we can send you there to…acclimate.”

“Do I have a choice?” Steve demanded.

Fury shrugged, “In a way, yes. You can either stay in one of the rooms here until we think you won’t have a breakdown from seeing more of the modern age, or you can go to the cabin.”

Sighing, Steve frowned before relenting, “I’ll go to the cabin.”

“Good. These agents will get you settled,” Fury insisted, walking toward the helicopter.

Steve followed, getting in and securing himself. The pilot handed him a headset. Steve put them onto his head and touched the odd piece that was coming from one of the ears. Everything was muffled, but then he glanced up in surprise as he could hear the agent next to him perfectly as he said, “That’s a microphone. If you need anything, just talk into it. We’ll be at the cabin in a little over an hour. My name’s Agent Tanner.”

“Understood, and nice to meet you, Agent,” Steve said, staring at the window and forcing himself to focus on the sky and the scenery. Unfortunately within minutes of glancing down toward the ground from that high up, all he could picture was Bucky falling, screaming and reaching for him. Blinking back tears and glancing at his lap instead, Steve wished he had something to busy his hands and his mind with. Something. Anything. Instead all he could do was clench them tightly and close his eyes. He didn’t want to sleep, just wanted to clear his mind, to push aside the thoughts that kept creeping forward.

The only thing he could think of that wasn’t connected to the things he wasn’t ready to face yet were those damn U.S.O. shows. The choreography. The dumb song. Knocking out Hitler over 200 times. He pictured the tour through the states, picturing a select few stops in as much vivid detail as he could until noise crackled in his ears.

“We’re landing and it might be a little bumpy, so brace yourself.”

Steve glanced up and took a deep breath, calming himself as the helicopter landed with only the slightest bit of turbulence. It had felt like nothing. Then again, it would after crashing headfirst into the ice. Unbuckling, Steve took off the headset and handed it up to the pilot before he got out of the craft. They’d landed in a clearing in a wooded area and there was a cabin. A pristine lake lay before it and it all looked like some piece of art come to life.

The agent went forward and unlocked the door with his thumbprint. Steve followed inside and almost felt comforted by it. It was warm, cozy even. There was a couch in front of an odd item, a small kitchen area, and a couple of doors.

“The door on the left is to a bathroom. Toilet, shower, and tub. The door on the right is a bedroom. That phone on the wall has a sheet of numbers next to it if you want to contact someone specifically. However, if you don’t know who you need to talk to about something, you can just dial ‘0’ and someone will help you out,” Agent Tanner explained.

Steve nodded, moving toward the phone and frowning at it. It didn’t look like any phone he recognized, but he guessed he’d figure it out as he went along.

Agent Tanner seemed to pick up on his discomfort though and announced, “The shelf has a whole assortment of instruction manuals on it to help you catch up with the shift in technology, including the television in front of the couch.” He then moved toward the kitchen and explained, “The fridge is stocked, and there’s a number by the phone of who to call if you need more supplies if you want to verbally let someone know if you like. If you get comfortable with the tablet, you can also digitally make requests.”

“Tablet?” Steve frowned.

“Right,” Agent Tanner sighed. “You didn’t have those back then. Let’s see, uh, a tablet is a very small computer. If you like, I can stay and help you figure a few things out.”

“Is there an instruction manual for it?” Steve asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Yes, sir,” Agent Tanner replied eagerly.

“Then I should be fine,” Steve said, eager for the conversation and the interaction with this awkward agent to end.

“Right, of course,” Agent Tanner said with a smile. After a few more moments of pause, Steve glanced over at the agent only for the other man’s eyes to widen as he stammered, “Oh, right. I’ll get out of your hair. If you need anything at all, sir, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” Steve said honestly.

Agent Tanner then started to leave before he paused and confessed, “Sir, I just wanted to say that…it’s been an honor to meet you.”

Steve didn’t know what to say, so he just shook the man’s hand before watching him leave. As soon as the door was shut, Steve pulled off his boots and set them next to the front door. Once he did that, he then headed over to the fridge and opened it, revealing so much food that he thought he might faint. The icebox had even more food. Thick slabs of meat, boxes of ice cream, and all sorts of things that made him feel the slight edges of panic gripping at him.

Shutting the door to that, Steve then headed into the bedroom, sighing as he saw that at least beds still looked normal. Sure, the bed looked a hell of a lot nicer than he was used to, but it still just looked like a _ bed_. The dressers also looked expensive, but still what he was used to. At least not everything had changed in the future. Pulling open the drawers, he let his hands run over soft fabric, touching everything until he jerked back, sitting heavily on the bed as a memory slammed into him.

_ Those suits_.

Steve blinked back tears as he remembered that day. Viv had shown up with those suits she’d gotten from their neighbors, had given them each one. They’d danced in the sunlight, and they’d been _ happy_. Steve could hear her laughter, could smell her perfume, could feel her as they moved around the room.

Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face and he lay on the bed, curling up and letting himself cry in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself to cry in years. All that time denying himself, forcing down his heart for fear of how painful it would be to lose Vivian, and here he was. Even after she was gone in the war, he’d pushed it down, focused on the fighting, focused on Bucky, told himself he _ didn’t have the right _ to mourn her like Bucky was. He had to stay strong for Bucky, keep a strong front for their team. He’d started to let go after Bucky died, and then he’d laser focused.

He’d given himself a new task, a way to get back to them, but he’d failed. Somehow he was still alive, and living without her was more painful than he could have ever imagined. It was just him. It was just him alone with his grief and the ache that had grown inside him like a sickness, clinging to every inch of his body, blanketing him in suffering.

It was just him left and he hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm extremely excited about this. It's gonna be intense. There's gonna be a lot of Steve.
> 
> Also, I'm doing something new. I'm thinking about doing 'extended'/'deleted' scenes for this part. And that means if you want more of a part of a chapter or you want a different POV of a chapter, please let me know and I'll probably (but no guarantee) do it.
> 
> The reason it's not a guarantee is that I need to be able to write more or there needs to be a good way to actually write that chapter from a different POV. Also, this is all dependent on whether y'all want it or not. lmao


	2. Two: 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Steve is sad. That's really all I can think to put here.
> 
> Also, I really dislike the trope of having Steve be just a baffled old man in a lot of situations, so I purposely subvert it and make fun of it.

“Happy birthday, Viv.”

Steve lit a match, staring at the flame for a moment before he lit the candle. He’d woken up the day before, craving cinnamon rolls and he hadn’t known why. Then he’d looked at the calendar and realized exactly the reason he’d craved them. Vivian. She’d loved cinnamon rolls. They’d been her favorite food in the whole entire world, and so on her birthday she always got cinnamon rolls instead of a cake. Bucky had done his best to buy whatever supplies they needed, and then Steve made them.

Even when she didn’t let them celebrate her birthday for real, she’d encouraged the cinnamon roll tradition. After all, it gave Vivian an excuse to make him eat more. She wasn’t exactly subtle about it. Bucky hadn’t been either, and the two of them had always ganged up on him, teasing him and kissing him until he gave in. Clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes, Steve sighed and admitted to himself, “Candle was a stupid idea. You can’t make a wish for someone else.”

Taking the candle out, he blew it out and then stood up, laying it on a dish so that he could clean it off and store it for later. Going back and sitting at the table, he pulled the plate close to him and pulled off a section of the cinnamon roll. Taking a bite, he closed his eye while sitting back and sighing. It’d been a long time since he’d had something with real sugar in it. Rations during the war had barely any flavor to them whatsoever and even before then, sometimes they just couldn’t afford it.

From what he’d read, no one seemed to have a problem getting their hands on it anymore. Rationing was no longer a practice done during wartime, even though America always seemed to be at war somewhere with someone. Beyond that, sugar seemed to be in everything. People’s favorite coffees now seemed to be more sugar than coffee, not that he blamed them. It sure as hell tasted better that way. Steve glanced around the room as he continued eating small bites of the warm, gooey cinnamon roll. There were a few physical copies of instruction manuals in the apartment, notably the ones about technology were all physical copies, but everything else was on the computer, the tablet, or the ‘smartphone’.

The computer itself also had a number of programs on it to help teach him how to use it. There’d been a typing game on there that he’d played around with for a while. He’d used a typewriter a bit growing up, so typing on a computer keyboard wasn’t exactly a huge leap. It was actually much easier since fixing a mistake had become as easy as just hitting a button. Fixing a mistake on a typewriter had been a much more obnoxious process. All of the training games on the computer were pretty easy to master though. Regardless of his high scores, it’d taken a couple of weeks for the SHIELD agents to stop talking to him like he was an idiot. None of them seemed to be able to get past the idea of him being some clueless old man sooner than that.

He had fun with it for a while though, especially after he’d read about common fraudulent schemes to avoid. Usually it just resulted in someone being condescending and embarrassing themselves. Unfortunately, it’d all come to a screeching halt after he’d 'excitedly' informed an agent about all the money and information he’d sent to a just swell Nigerian prince. No one at SHIELD had found the joke very funny and he’d gotten a long lecture on why fraud was a serious crime. After that, he’d learned to keep the jokes to a minimum and only with the agents on the line who wouldn’t lose their minds over the first thing they heard.

Finishing up the cinnamon roll, Steve washed it down with hot chocolate he'd made earlier and then wiped off his hands. The laptop was nearby, but he made himself get up for it instead of just reaching for it, as he was tempted to do just to see if his arms would reach that far. Sitting on the couch with it, he then turned it on and opened a browser to search for historical articles. He was careful about what he looked up, not just because of the training, but because he was sure someone was monitoring his internet activity through SHIELD. They weren’t exactly secretive about it. Any topic he ended up searching for somehow managed to show up mysteriously in his library of e-books relatively soon after.

Clicking on a link that passed a lot of the ‘is this site legitimate?’ tests he’d been advised to follow, Steve found himself looking through a lot of the information he already knew from his own past. People were, by and large, obsessed with the war he’d been involved in, World War II. It sounded ominous. He understood why they were fascinated though. It’d been an insane time. There were dozens upon dozens of sites about the Howling Commandos. He could always find more than a few articles, sites, and books dedicated to the subject. Not all were accurate. Almost none told the full picture, and depending on what their political agenda was, they tended to skew Captain America whichever way they pleased. And they sure as hell didn’t talk about Vivian the way she deserved.

Steve sighed and frowned as he went back to the search after the article in question left Vivian as a footnote, a mention of the love interest that Bucky had lost and nothing more. He’d noticed people tended to reduce Vivian to that. To a love interest. To just some woman who pined away for Bucky until she just up and died, and it made Steve _ furious_.

Vivian had lit up every room she’d been in. She’d constantly been helping him or Bucky or his ma or strangers. She'd been a hero long before she’d joined the war effort. In truth, she’d have been a better Captain America than he’d been. She’d kept his mother alive for weeks beyond what that overworked and understaffed hospital would have been able to do. She covered his mother’s shifts all while still working at that diner and studying for her own exams. And years after his mother had died, he realized that the amount of money given to him by her meant she’d at least sometimes given him _all_ of the wages she’d earned.

People knew that Steve Rogers wouldn’t have lasted long without Bucky Barnes, but they seemed time and time again to not realize that Steve often wouldn’t have survived without Vivian. The medicine she’d stolen, the money she’d given, the care she’d administered, and the love she’d freely offered had all made his life better. She’d made _ him_ better. And all while she'd been dealing with a mother who'd, God help him for saying it, never deserved having a daughter as great as Viv. He knew that because Viv's ma seemed to bounce between never being around or just making Vivian sad. He wasn't sure what happened during those birthday visits, but Viv had always been quieter after, more reserved, and there'd been _pain_ in her gaze. Pain he'd never been able to fix, no matter how hard he'd tried.

Steve was startled out of his thoughts though as he clicked on an article about the history of nursing. The author of the site in general seemed enamored with nurses in general, but it was clear there was special significance with Vivian. They talked about her work during the war, listed quotes from allied soldiers who had nothing but praise for her. It got harder and harder to read the words though as tears welled up. He had to set the computer aside though as he read about the hospital Vivian had worked in had an entire ward named after her.

Vivian hadn’t been forgotten.

A whole new generation was learning about Bucky and Vivian and at least some of them were getting to see them as they really were. Not all of them were, but Steve figured he could work on that. He could fix that. He could tell people how amazing they were. He could make people understand that _they _were the real heroes, not him. Carefully bookmarking the article about Vivian, Steve smiled and realized he was actually ecstatic that someone was monitoring his internet activity. That meant someone in SHIELD would put all the books on Vivian that he wanted into his library.

Oh, he could definitely find them on his own, but it was just so damn convenient to have them do it for him. Plus, he was pretty sure they still thought they were being sneaky about it. They probably thought he couldn’t locate the ‘sort by date added’ function and they most definitely forgot that he had an eidetic memory and was aware of every single title that was in that library at any given time.

Going to the image search, Steve typed in Bucky and Vivian’s names. Luckily there were dozens of old photographs of them that had been uploaded to the internet. Some were of them during the war, but he smiled softly as he spotted one that Bucky’s family must have submitted somewhere. It was a picture of Bucky sitting on the couch of his parents' living room. He was dressed up for church. Vivian was sitting next to him, dolled up in her Sunday best, her hair curled. She had a huge grin on her face and she was staring past the camera. Bucky was looking at her though, the definition of lovestruck. They both were, but only Steve knew now that Vivian was looking past the camera at _ him_.

She'd been trying to get him to join in on the photo, wanting one of the three of them, but he'd just shrugged, hanging back. Saving the photo to his desktop, Steve then opened it up again, frowning as he stared at it. It was stupid, but now more than anything he wanted to go back to that moment and just sit with them. He wanted to be with them, the three of them together, and to just stop caring about everything but them. He'd spent so much of his life caring about what would happen if he just _was_. He cared about the law, society, what would happen to them if his health got worse and he'd truly just been free with them.

And for what?

It hadn't protected anyone. It hadn't benefited anyone. Holding back from Vivian and Bucky hadn't stopped it from hurting when he lost them. It was a wound in his _soul_ that was going to be with him for…the rest of his life. He was always going to wonder what it would have been like if he'd just been a little bolder about his feelings. Shaking his head, Steve began printing each picture on glossy photo paper. He sat there for hours, printing them out and then carefully putting them into frames. Once he was done, he set them around the cabin and hung them on the walls. As soon as he did, he sat down, tears beginning to brim in his eyes.

Crying seemed to be a regular occurrence now. Before, back in the war, he'd had things to distract himself with, but now it just all felt…stupid. Even the moments where he felt good always ended with part of him turning to find Bucky or Viv to tell them about it, and then he'd remember that they were never going to able to experience it with him. They were just gone. Not even bodies to bury. All that was left of them was photographs and memories. His memories most of all.

And maybe that's all he was anymore, a living time capsule of things and people who were no longer around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers spending time in the Retreat is canon. It was mentioned in an episode of Agents of SHIELD. However, how long he was there and what all he did there was not mentioned, so I've like...made it up. I've also decided I hated the idea that SHIELD wanted him to adjust to the real world, but then gave him literally nothing to help him for some reason? Or worse that people are claiming that Steve goddamn Rogers didn't understand it.
> 
> So far all of the 'old man' stuff I've seen are based on Joss Whedon jokes, and that man can fuck off with that nonsense.
> 
> My Steve Rogers is a chaotic good bisexual who is very smart.
> 
> Also, THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS STORY THUS FAR? IT'S BEEN SO WILD AND IDK HOW TO THANK Y'ALL ENOUGH. Seriously, I'm just so excited that this weird story that I wanted to write one day has not only come this far in terms of how much I've written, but that it's gotten this level of reception. I know that some of y'all haven't been thrilled with the level of love Steve has had for Vivian, and while I still disagree with that, I am actively trying to showcase that Steve did and does love Vivian just as much as he did and does love Bucky. I don't know if the people who raised the concerns are still reading, but I am trying to make sure that there's no confusion on this aspect of the story going forward.


	3. Three: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Steve is sad and also starts admitting to himself that war is bad. There's also casual mentions of the fact that America has and still does garbage things during wartime.

Steve frowned as he stepped into the apartment with a bag slung over his shoulder and a suitcase rolling behind him. He'd also brought a couple boxes with him. He'd been so used to the cozy, decorated cabin that he'd forgotten what a new place looked and felt like. The walls of the place were blank. The furniture that had been put into the place was plain and all neutral tones. The basics seemed to be all there though. The front of the apartment seemed to be an open floor plan of the living room and the kitchen. The kitchen was nicer than the one that had been in the cabin, the appliances more updated. Other than that, it _ just felt empty_.

Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip on the bag he was carrying as he remembered that he could decorate it. He could make this his own. Relaxing his grip, he then set down the bag and sat his suitcase by the door. He'd need to unpack as soon as possible so that he wouldn't procrastinate on it any longer than he had to. He started coming up with a strategy as he looked around the place. First he'd need to look around, get a feel for the layout. Then he'd need to check to see what he had in the ways of storage as well as what necessities he still needed to purchase from the store. Steve glanced over his shoulder as Agent Tanner cleared his throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

"Right, so, here are your keys," Tanner said, stepping forward and handed them over.

Steve nodded, flipping through them while sighing, "Thanks."

"Right, um, would you like me to give you a tour here?" Agent Tanner asked nervously.

Steve swallowed hard and shook his head, "Thank you, but I'll have to decline on that offer, Agent. Right now I just want to unpack and then relax."

Agent Tanner's eyes widened as he exclaimed, "Of course! Of course, sir! Director Fury had me put a box of materials on your desk as well as a job offer in a folder for you. As always, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call. Obviously, I know where you live, so I can be right over if you need me to, or I can send someone else, or I can just send you materials, physical or digital. Whatever you need. I can also help you get to the store and go shopping. Seriously, sir, whatever you need."

Glancing over at the agent, Steve arched an eyebrow as the man stammered, "Not that you need any help, sir! You're perfectly capable. More than capable, actually, Captain. But you already know that. Obviously you know that. You know your own capabilities. You don't need me telling you--" 

"Agent Tanner," Steve interrupted as politely as possible. "Thank you for your offer to help me. Right now all I would like to do is unpack and relax. _If I need you, I will call you_." 

Agent Tanner nodded and then waved before backing up out of the apartment, stumbling slightly as he turned around. Shaking his head, Steve shut the door to his apartment and locked it, hanging the keys on a hook next to the door. Agent Tanner always sounded like he was contorting himself into a pretzel with how desperately he wanted to help him. Sometimes it was endearing, but most of the time it was just exhausting. 

Steve then did a quick walkthrough of the apartment. There was some minor storage in the living room. A TV had already been put there with a similar setup to the one in the cabin. The kitchen had plenty of cabinet space as well as a set of gleaming blue plates, bowls, and cups. A drawer near the sink was filled with silverware. There was a dishwasher in the kitchen as well. The stove looked nice and the microwave above it gleamed.

He then headed down the hall and checked on his office, which had a decent enough desk, and some drawers for storage that were empty. The desk _ did _ have a box and a file on it, but he ignored those for now. That was a task for later. Heading further down the hall, he found a laundry room that also doubled as the area where he'd be storing towels, cleaning supplies, and various other things of that nature. The room next to that was a small bathroom that had just a toilet and sink. There was already toilet paper stocked as well as a couple clean towels to dry your hands off on.

The room at the very end of the hall was his bedroom. The bed was large and looked like it had better bedding than the one in the cabin had on it as well. This room had a closet and also another door that led to a bathroom with a shower/tub combination. Shaking his head, Steve then headed back to the front door and grabbed his things while trying to sort through everything he was feeling. It seemed pointless though and so he took his bag to his room to begin unpacking. 

Steve had been given a decent amount of clothing, mostly button up shirts and khakis. All of it was pretty familiar. Once the clothing was all hung up and put into drawers, Steve then unpacked his laptop, setting it in his 'office' along with the tablet, still carefully ignoring the information given to him by Fury. He then went back to the boxes and began pulling out all of the pictures he'd printed. He placed them all over the apartment before he headed back into the office and sat down in the chair to stare down at that _ classified _ folder as well as the box sitting next to it.

Opening the folder first, Steve sighed as he looked it over. They'd already unfrozen his backpay and given him written reassurances back in the cabin that he didn't have to worry about that being taken from. This had a document reassuring him that was still on, but this document also contained an actual job offer. Fury wanted to bring him in as a level six agent, have him working on missions for SHIELD. He'd get his own team to run, although for the most part Fury wanted input on who went into it, which didn't surprise Steve whatsoever. He'd get to use his shield again and he'd get paid a salary that was so large that Steve actually had to take a break and step away from the table once he read it. Leaning against a wall, he closed his eyes and heaved in breaths.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to actually look at the balance of the bank account SHIELD had insisted he set up before his backpay had been unfrozen, unsure he was prepared for the number that was there. And now, looking at this salary? He knew he wasn't ready. That number, that salary for what he'd make in a _ year _ was more than Viv, Bucky, and Bucky's parents had made the entire time they were alive. That amount of money back then would have been enough to just sit around and do _ nothing all day for the rest of his goddamn life_.

_ Would have been enough money to get Bucky out of the draft_.

Steve shuddered as that thought came to his mind. It was a disgusting thought, one he hadn't allowed himself to think back then, but he'd been aware that some rich boys had never seen war purely because they were rich. He'd ignored that fact, focused on how war was supposed to be this glorious time to do something honorable, to do the _ right thing_. And it was easier to believe that when the enemy had been Hitler and Schmidt and Zola and Viper aka Madame Hydra. Now, from what he read, war was all sorts of complicated. Most of the wars now seemed to be either based on lies or just…greed. Or both. 

He'd somewhat already known there was no true 'heroic side' of a war just from his knowledge of the Great War (now called World War I by people), but for a while he'd let himself be tricked. The lure of believing that he was just _ doing the right thing _ had been too strong and the Nazis had been _ so irredeemably bad_. And now he knew about all of the irredeemable stuff America had done during that war and was still doing. He knew about all of the pointless, senseless, no win scenarios the whole world kept finding themselves in. He knew about the casualties. 

Steve groaned and slid down against the wall, staring up at the ceiling while choking out, "_Shit_. Buck, Viv, _ I wish you were here_. You'd know what I should do. You always did. Didn't always listen to you, but _ fuck _ I _ really _ need you now. I don't know what the hell I should do. I don't know what to _ believe _ or who to _ be _ anymore, and you _ always_…"

Steve's throat felt tight and his eyes burned as tears slid down his cheeks while his voice shook, "_You always knew me better than I knew myself_."

Steve's phone buzzing had him wiping his face roughly before he got up and cleared his throat. He needed to pull himself together. Heading over and picking up his phone, he looked through the messages and wanted to sigh. Agent Tanner had sent him several text messages. One was just a reminder of the number to call if he wanted to 'join the cause' and another was a note about what hours he was available to help out as well as an invitation to show him around New York.

Steve sent back a polite, but otherwise noncommittal answer via text before shaking his head. Agent Tanner seemed to be a sweet kid, but he was damn near constantly underfoot. Beyond that, he was also just…uncomfortably awkward. There'd been one time when he'd shown up to the cabin, bright red and having decided that he was going to teach Captain America _ sexual education_.

It would have been amusing if the man hadn't been laboring under the idea that Steve both 1.) had never heard the word sex, let alone participated in it, and 2.) would faint at the sight of a condom. The second a banana and a condom had gotten brought out, Steve had taken the banana and escorted Agent Tanner out before shutting the door. 

He had eaten the banana though, and despite the change in flavor, Steve still enjoyed them. Bananas in general seemed to almost perfectly encapsulate the new age. Everything around him was familiar, but at the same time just wasn't like how he remembered. Tastes, smells, sights, feelings, situations. They were all familiar things that had been taken and just _ shifted_.

Shaking his head, Steve thought about it longer before he sent a text message to Fury. Just a simple '_ While I appreciate the offer, at this time I am not interested in returning to active duty'. _Fury replied with an acknowledgement, but Steve doubted that'd be the last he'd be hearing from the man. Despite the fact that he'd barely interacted with Nick Fury after waking up in a whole new century, Steve could just tell that the director of SHIELD wasn't someone who gave up easily, especially not when it came to soldiers he wanted on his side.

Steve just didn't want to make a decision at the moment though. So far his only real interaction with the modern age had been running straight into a busy New York street while thinking he was escaping from a Hydra base and then he spent weeks confined in a cabin with nothing but technology and overeager SHIELD agents to keep him occupied. He hadn't had a single, solitary clue about what was going on when he'd woken up, and now he had an idea, but hadn't _ experienced _ any of it.

He wanted to see if he could even get back into the world, if he could just _ be _ a civilian. After all, he'd spent most of his life as one, but could he adjust to this time? Could he adjust to being _ alone_? For a guy who'd annoyed people with his constant 'I can get by on my own' schtick, he'd never actually had to do that before. He'd had his mom, and then he'd had his mom and Bucky. Then he'd had the entire Barnes family on top of that. Then he'd had Viv along with it.

He'd lost his mom, but he'd had those glorious years with Bucky and Viv, time he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Viv had left for the war, but he'd still had Bucky. Hell, after Bucky got drafted, he'd still had the entire Barnes family fussing over him until he himself joined the war. Once he'd done that, he'd had Erskine for a short while, and then he'd had Peggy. He'd had Howard. He'd lost Vivian, but he'd had Bucky and the Howling Commandos. Upon reflection, there wasn't a single solitary moment of his life up until waking up from the ice where he'd been without someone he trusted. Even in that last few awful days after Bucky had died, he'd had people he trusted with his life. People who'd rallied around him and desperately wanted what was best for him, not because he was _ Captain America_, but because he was _ Steve Rogers _ and they _ cared about him_.

And now he was just _ utterly alone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so first things first, I'm just letting you guys know that whenever possible while the chapters are this kind of length, especially since I have a few chapters written already past this, I'm going to be trying to post every week. May not always happened, but I realized that I've given myself hopefully enough of a buffer that I'm not stressed about this.
> 
> Next, I don't know how many of you obsessively paid attention to Steve's agent level within SHIELD, but the MCU has been wildly inconsistent with it. I settled on level 6, because that's a high enough level agent and would explain why he wasn't briefed on Coulson being uh, not dead since in the very first episode of Agents of SHIELD, Coulson being alive is revealed to Grant Ward once he becomes level 7. So that level is what I'm sticking with for now. I don't know how much of that is important to y'all.
> 
> Also, I don't know how backpay works tbh and the idea of reading through articles about bureaucratic nonsense made me want to throw myself off my deck, so I'm just going to say this is fine. Probably. I don't know. He's Captain America and I can do whatever I want.
> 
> Oh and the banana comment _is_ a reference to the multiple fanfictions that have brought up the differences in bananas then and now. Like, I get it, and I've got nothing against people making it this thing Steve and Bucky take a hard stance on, but in my opinion I don't think they would hate modern bananas. To each their own though. It's probably just that I think bananas are good as hell.


	4. Four: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: reference to the n word (literally just 'the n word'), racism, comparing hydra to both kkk and nazis, violence, a somewhat graphic description of someone being strangled, and Hydra's still really shitty all around
> 
> Vivian's chapters are always pretty buckwild at this point. Also, yeah, hi, this is a Vivian chapter.

"Wake up."

Vivian's body ached and she groaned as she blearily looked around her, trying to wake up in a meaningful way, even though she'd slept awful. She always did nowadays. After her _ outburst _ over Steve, they'd stripped her room down to almost nothing. She had a bedroll to lay on and nothing else. Sometimes she didn't even have the bedroll, and besides, the thing was so stained with blood that the thing just looked _ brown_. It also made the thing pretty disgusting to lay on, but it was marginally less awful to lay on than the concrete floor.

"I'm up," Vivian sighed, leaning against the wall.

Pierce entered the room, a glare on his face and his jaw already working. The man had been on edge around her ever since the aforementioned incident and Vivian got a small sense of sick satisfaction from it. Behind him trailed a young man. He looked to be in his late twenties. He was a pretty generic looking white guy to be honest. Brown hair, brown eyes. His whole appearance and demeanor was utterly forgettable. She figured that was the point of him though. It's hard to pinpoint a heinous crime on someone when all you can remember is that he was just 'some white guy'. Beyond that, there were numerous systems in place just on their own to make it unlikely that this young white guy would get a serious sentence.

"You said we'd never be able to get Captain America to work for us. Why?"

For a moment, Vivian just rolled her eyes and scoffed. The question was idiotic. After Pierce glared and took a step toward her, she tilted her head to the side, laughing bitterly, "_Seriously _ ? You're seriously asking me _ that_? Last time I said that, I took two bullets to the spine. You let me recover here on my own. I had to take care of myself for _ weeks_. There was a whole week where my lower half didn't work, so I was just pissing and shitting myself on the regular. Also, I've hated you and this whole organization for basically forever, so what the fuck makes you think I'm going to help you in any way?"

"You know why you'll help me," Pierce sneered. "It's the same reason you've always helped me. _ It's to keep your little pet alive_."

Vivian glared, but then nodded toward the man behind Pierce, "Fine. I'll answer your questions, but not before you tell me who Boring White Male is over there."

"My name is Agent Andrew Tanner," aforementioned man insisted, looking more than a little offended.

"Andrew Tanner," Vivian repeated, her disbelief almost palpable. "I bet you're the kind of white guy who says the N word in rap songs super loudly, and then when you're called out on it, you blame the rap industry for saying it first."

"If they didn't want people to say the word, why would they--"

"Enough!" Pierce interrupted, glaring over at Agent Tanner. Vivian didn't even bother to hide her grin as he snapped, "She's just trying to bait you! _ Focus_."

"Real top notch agent you got there, Pierce. Where'd you find him? The Klan decide he was too boring?"

"I'm not a member of the Klu Klux Klan!" Agent Tanner hissed. 

Vivian put a hand over her heart and fake gasped, "Oh, _ I'm sorry_. Did I offend the _ Nazi _ by calling them a Klan member?"

"I am _ not a Nazi_," Agent Tanner insisted, his voice getting louder. His face was bright red, but then he stared furiously down at his shoes as Pierce glared at him again.

"Agent Tanner here has been assigned to watch Captain America, but hasn't had any luck getting the man's trust. You managed it once. How did you do it?" Pierce demanded.

Vivian sighed and stared at the ceiling, telling herself this was for Bucky and Steve would understand. She then smiled softly to herself when she realized she didn't have to give him anything _ really _ good. All she had to do was give this kid some generic pointers. Only things they could figure out if they bothered to walk through that Smithsonian exhibit for more than thirty seconds. Besides, helping Tanner was of no real risk. There was no way Steve was ever going to trust this clown anyway.

"All right, first thing's first. How do you talk to him?" Vivian asked, glancing back down at Tanner.

Tanner cleared his throat and straightened his uniform before admitting, "I'm always respectful to him. I do my best to explain to him new things, make sure I'm not going too fast and--"

"Stop right there," Vivian interrupted. "_Too fast_? The man's got one of the best strategic minds of the 20th century and you're acting like he needs to keep up with _ you_, bootlicker? That right there is just going to piss him off, so listen here, dipshit. _ Steve Rogers has never and will never need your help intellectually_. He also just genuinely hates it when people are condescending to him. Like _ truly hates it_."

"He's new to this time!" Tanner insisted angrily.

"_And he's not a fucking idiot_!" Vivian retorted loudly. "He's probably never been rude to you, but the fact that you're a condescending asshole to him _ does _ mean that he ends conversations with you as quickly as physically possible. Back before the serum, he probably would have just fought you, but considering he could now break you like a twig without so much as raising his heart rate, I'm going to guess he's trying to be diplomatic about the whole thing."

"Then why hasn't he accepted Fury's offer to join SHIELD as an active agent?" Tanner demanded. "He won't tell anyone why! All he says he's not ready!"

"Gee," Vivian mused, tilting her head. "_ I wonder why the guy whose best friend died a few months back and who just found out basically all of his other friends are dead would have a hard time readjusting_."

"It's been decades since Barnes died," Tanner disagreed.

"Hey, moron, how long's Steve been out of the ice?" Vivian snapped. "Because it doesn't _ feel _ like seventy years to him. It _ feels _ like months. He's in _ mourning_, you waste of fucking space. And not only is he in mourning, but there's not a single solitary person around him that he trusts. Pushing for him to just jump back into fights right now just shows that all you give a damn about is the shield, not him."

"He _ is _the shield! He knew what he was getting when he signed up to be property of the U.S. government!"

Vivian smiled a terrible smile, one that was more baring her teeth like a predator than anything else as she focused on Tanner. Pierce was looking exasperated, but then he glared at her as she focused on Tanner and formed a tight grip on his throat. She could hear the moment his air supply cut off and watched as his skin turned ashen and he clawed at his throat, falling to his knees. He flailed wildly, his skin tinting blue as he gasped and sputtered. His eyes were wide and she could see blood vessels beginning to burst in his eyes.

"Enough!"

Vivian released her grip on Tanner, resulting in the man hitting the ground hard. He then coughed and sputtered, his chest heaving as he desperately struggled to catch his breath. It took a couple of minutes for him to quiet down, in fact. Once he did, Vivian turned toward Pierce and vowed, "Next time he refers to Rogers as property, _I'll snap his fucking neck_, and you can go about replacing him with the next boring, eager to please white boy that you've got lined up."

"Tell me what makes Rogers tick," Pierce demanded, not even looking at Tanner at this point. 

"You already know," Vivian retorted. "Steve Rogers is, at his core, a _ good man_. That's what he _ is_. He's the guy that propaganda didn't really have to do much reaching for when they talked about him. He is, and always has been, a _ Big Damn Hero_. Long before he was built like the Army's personal wet dream come to life, he was getting into back alley scraps over everything from defending minority rights to protecting the right to unionize. He always tries his best to do the right thing, and he's willing to fight for what he believes in. It's why he signed up for that damn serum. He didn't want glory. He didn't want fame. He wanted to be able to _ do the right thing_." 

"He wants someone or something to protect," Pierce murmured.

Vivian shrugged, "Chances are he'll find it on his own. That man was half-deaf before the war, but could still somehow find any and every damn fight within a five mile radius. I can only imagine how much worse that got after the serum. The only difference is that now he can win them." 

"We can't just _ wait _ for him to find something to fight for," Pierce argued.

Vivian grinned, "He also, just so you know, is more stubborn than a mule, and one thing propaganda _ did _ get wrong is this idea that he's super keen on the rules. The truth of the matter is that Steve Rogers is ruled by a moral compass. A _ strong _ moral compass. Whether something is a rule or legal isn't actually something he uses as an important deciding factor. If something is the _ right thing to do_, but is also illegal, then the only thing he's going to do is prepare to be arrested after he still does that thing. It's why he got arrested countless times before the war. It's why he lied on his enlistment forms. It's why he defied director orders and went behind enemy lines to save Barnes. You are _ never _ going to be able to convince him to do something he views as the wrong thing by pointing out that it's the way the law says it should be. If it's wrong, it's wrong. End of story." 

Pierce frowned, folding his arms across his chest while he stared at the floor, seeming lost in thought. Tanner was still on the ground, seeming to lack the energy to get up, but he flinched when she made eye contact with him. Good. She wanted him to fear her. Maybe if he was more afraid of her than he was of Pierce, he'd keep his goddamn distance from Steve. Pierce seemed to have heard enough though and walked out, stepping on Tanner's hand in the process, causing him to choke down a cry of pain. Pierce stepped out of the room, glancing back at the agent coldly before he snapped, "Get up." 

Tanner winced and clutched his injured hand to his chest while shakily pushing himself up. As he glanced up, Vivian grinned widely at him, more entertained than she'd been in a long time as he struggled. After a few moments, he was on his feet, looking close to collapsing. As he started to leave her room, she called over, "Oh, one last thing."

Tanner stopped and turned toward her and Vivian put a hand over her heart, "I hope Steve rips you apart with his bare hands." She then laughed, "Although at this rate, it looks like Pierce might beat him to it."

"Fuck you," Tanner snarled, slamming the door as he left.

Sighing, Vivian then leaned against the wall, tilting her head toward the ceiling and closing her eyes as she forced herself to remain calm. It was easy to slip into that defiant, devil may care attitude around bastards like Tanner and Schmidt, but the truth was that the longer Steve was around those monsters, the more she was afraid. After all, despite being the closest thing to perfection Vivian had ever seen, Steve was still just human. He was a human with faults and hopes and dreams and wishes.

He could still be hurt by Hydra.

Licking her bottom lip, Vivian opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling while she let herself picture Steve as that scrawny kid from Brooklyn. She pictured him in all of those back alley brawls. She pictured him standing up as straight as he could, his head up defiantly as he went after some rich asshole for being classist or sexist or racist or homophobic or a number of other things. He'd been beaten, imprisoned, and tortured because he wanted to do the right thing. He'd crashed that plane into the arctic to do the right thing.

_ Or maybe he just gave up_.

Shaking her head, Vivian took a deep breath, glaring down at the floor before muttering, "Swear to fucking God, Rogers, if you pull another stunt like that, I'll kick your ass so hard, they'll have to search for you in the arctic all over again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, hi, uh, hopefully the reveal of Tanner being the world's least effective Hydra agent was a fun surprise. It was something that deeply amused me. He's not a good person, he's just really shit at his job. Also, I figured Hydra seemed to be goddamn everywhere else, so why not also keeping an eye on Steve before he officially joined SHIELD? Tanner's incompetence does make it kind of a waste though since most of that fool's reports are shit like, "Steve Rogers buys like, 10 pounds of chicken every week and I think he's able to eat all of that during that time and I think he started reading a book on Vietnam."
> 
> The effect described during the telekinetic strangulation done by Vivian where the blood vessels in Tanner's eyes start to burst is an effect called petechial hemorrhaging. It's when pressure builds up in those tiny blood vessels and therefore burst. It's not a guarantee with manual strangulation and it can also happen for other reasons, but it is exceedingly common with that particular violent action. A lot of you probably already know about it if you've watched basically any show with murder in it, since shows will make it seem like this phenomena happens literally every single time manual strangulation is the cause of death, which is not the case. It's not that cut and dry, but it is common enough where it would start leading investigators down that path as one of the strong possibilities. I personally chose for it to start to happen in this case because I'm a dramatic bitch. And that's about it. That's the whole reasoning. lmao


	5. Five: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: SO MUCH SADNESS. Seriously though, Steve deals with a lot of grief here. Actually, the entire chapter is focused on Steve grieving.

Steve wasn't sure if having an eidetic memory was a blessing or a curse. It was useful for information and various tasks, but then when it came to memories, sometimes it was just a burden. When he'd been in the cabin, he'd had nights where he'd dream about Bucky and Viv, but now living in an apartment in the city, it was like he couldn't go a single night without having one dream or another. He'd dream about everything from the intense to the absolutely ordinary. 

One night, the only thing that happened in the dream was just a simple dinner with Viv and Buck. It'd just been a stew that had been made. They'd barely spoken. It'd been a long week for all of them and they'd just been so goddamn exhausted and weak from hunger that they'd spent the bulk of the time just _ eating_. Just eating and being near each other. Once it was done, they'd washed the dishes and then just curled up together on the couch before falling asleep. That was it. That was all it was, and still it was enough to make him wake up just feeling like his heart was in a vice grip.

He missed that. He missed those moments. He missed _ them_.

He hadn't expected just _ everything _ in his day to day life to remind him of something he did with one or both of them. Cooking, cleaning, showering, taking out the garbage, and just everything in between was a reminder of moments he'd shared. Sometimes when he hadn't slept for a period of time, he'd even find himself almost turning to ask Buck or Viv what they thought of something he did only to remember they weren't there. That had only happened a couple of times though, all after days of not sleeping.

Part of the problem was that the whole city's volume seemed to have been turned up, but he did remember thinking that back when he'd gotten the serum. He only got to spend a short while in the city after he'd gotten his hearing fixed and even then, it'd been hard to focus on just how _ loud _ New York was. Now it's all he could noticed. It'd made running errands, which was already a little jarring, even more strenuous.

Steve leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face though as he glanced over at the box on his desk. He still hadn't brought himself to actually look through it. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Finally caving after a moment, he took a deep breath before letting it go and then opening the box. Inside was a stack of folders. Pulling them out, he set them on the desk before he began to go through them.

Dugan was the first file he opened and he felt a twinge of pain as he looked at the contents. The documents showed he'd gone on after the war to help with SHIELD. Steve's gut twisted though when he saw Dum Dum died of a heart attack in 1984. He'd been 72 years old. Shaking his head, Steve set that file aside and move onto the next one. Morita had the same kind of service record as Dum Dum. He'd only died back in 2009 at the age of 90. Jones died in 2010 at 92. Dernier dead at 85 in 1996. Happy Sam died in 1998 at 79. Pinkerton died in 2001 at 88. Steve froze as he saw Monty's file. Monty had died in a gas leak in his own home. He'd been 43 years old. His kids hadn't even been grown.

Putting those aside, Steve then stared at the five files left on his desk. Forcing himself to take a deep breath only to winced as he opened it up, Steve stared at the face of Howard Stark. Howard, the co-founder of SHIELD. Howard, the man who'd been half the creator of Captain America. The man who'd seen through his pretending and had known he was in love with Bucky. His heart ached as he saw that Howard had died in a car accident back in 1991. His wife had been in the car with him at the time. He'd been 72, but his surviving son had been 21 at the time.

Moving to the next file, his frown deepened as he saw the file for Howard's son. Anthony. Seemed like Howard's son had taken over the family business, but not joined SHIELD. His company, STARK enterprises _ had _ been a weapons manufacturing company up until a stint in the desert where Tony Stark had been captured and tortured. After the incident it seemed Tony shut down the entire weapons portion of his company and instead focused on things like energy. And there was also the part where he made himself a metal suit of armor and flew around fighting terrorists. The file didn't seem to be able to make up its mind on whether Tony was a nuisance or a hero. 

Moving to the next files, Steve almost wanted to vomit when he saw one file was Bucky's and the other was Vivian's. He already knew when they died. He was intimately familiar with how Bucky died, with how he'd been failed by the one person he could trust. Steve couldn't help but smile though when he saw that they were both listed as being in a Brooklyn cemetery, the one Buck's entire family got buried in. The same one his had been. 

_ Good, they finally got to come home_.

Gently putting those files aside, Steve then forced himself to count to ten before he opened the final one. Peggy. He braced himself to find out how she died, what had happened to her, but then he found himself stunned as he stared at not the name of a cemetery, but rather an address. There was no 'deceased' stamp on her file. Her file read _ 'retired _ '. Peggy was _ alive_. She was 90 years old and living in an assisted living home. There was a _ phone number _ for her. The address itself was even in America. Seemed Peggy had retired in DC after she'd founded and then run SHIELD for decades.

Glancing over at the other information in the file, Steve found himself staring in shock as he saw that Peggy had been in a relationship for decades and then she'd gotten legally married to that person in 2004. Her spouse's name was Angie Martinelli. Steve stared at the file and then quickly turned his computer on before beginning to search frantically. He didn't understand how Peggy had _ legally _ married a woman.

The more Steve searched online though, the more his heart raced. Stonewall riots. The die-ins. Supreme court rulings about sexual activity. Then in 2004, some states had started issuing marriage licenses. Peggy and Angie had been together since the late 1940s. Back then they'd been 'roommates' and 'good friends' publicly. Once the civil rights movement began, Peggy had come out as bisexual and Angie had confessed to being a lesbian. The two became a power couple, one of the faces of the LGBT movement. 

They'd run charities and donated money as well as their time to everything from helping homeless LGBT members, helping during the AIDS crisis or even just lobbying for gay marriage to be legalized in general. And then it finally started happening. Once the actions that were deemed _ illegal _ were no longer classified as such, more momentum came to the fight for marriage equality. It had taken a few years, but in 2009, it was finally legalized.

Steve smiled as he read a quote from Peggy, who'd eloquently stated, "Legally, depending on the location, we've either been married five days or five years. However, in my heart, and in the eyes of God, this woman has been my wife since 1948."

Steve laughed, tears in his eyes as he read that. Peggy always was too good for a punk like him. The fact that she hadn't been alone though, the fact that she'd _ found her person _ was more than he could have ever even hoped for her. Even just looking at pictures of them together, Steve knew that Peggy had never looked at him the way she looked at Angie and he hadn't ever looked at Peggy the way Angie did. Even when the two were surrounded by other people, it always looked like they could only see each other. That kind of love, that kind of _ devotion _ was something he would have never been able to give to Peggy, not while his heart was with Bucky and Viv so completely.

Frowning, Steve then shut his laptop and grabbed his wallet. Heading to the front of the apartment, he then grabbed his keys and a leather jacket before leaving. It wasn't like he _ hadn't _ left the apartment, but every time he did, he was reminded of just how loud everything was. Before he didn't really have a _ goal _ in mind of where he was going. He did now. He knew exactly where he was going. The trip ended up being longer than it needed to be despite knowing exactly where he was going simply for the fact that he stopped at no less than five separate bodegas.

The first bodega wasn't selling flowers at all, and then the next three just didn't' have the right selection. The last one was a gold mine, but also the most expensive, not that it really mattered anymore. After he bought the flowers, he then boarded the subway, avoiding the gazes of the other passengers and remaining standing the entire time despite the fact that there were some seats available. He just had too much nervous energy to sit.

Once he reached his stop, he then got off quickly, ignoring the whispers and the odd glances he got from the people as he tried his best to move past people. Back before the serum, slipping through crowds of people had been easier than breathing, but now _ not _ being noticed was pretty much not an option. Shaking his head, he gripped the flowers slightly tighter, silencing the memories before they could overwhelm him.

The cemetery itself looked exactly as he remembered it. His parents were buried there and so he'd come to this place at least once a year for as long as he could remember. Or at least he had before the war. Shaking his head at that, Steve carefully made his way to their graves, crouching in front of them and sighing. Sarah Rogers and Joseph Rogers. Laying down flowers on their graves, Steve gave a watery smile before whispering, "I'm sorry I haven't visited in so long, Ma. I would have been here sooner, but…"

Steve shook his head and ran his hand over his face before laughing weakly, "Got my own place now. You'd love it. This organization called SHIELD set me up there. I guess they're hoping that if they're nice enough to me that I'll work for 'em. I don't know if I want to do that. I don't know if I _ can _ do that. And I already know what you'd say and what you'd say Dad would say. You'd say to follow my heart and to always do the right thing. You'd say to stand up for those who can't. That's what both of you did your entire lives. I just…I don't know. I didn't expect to be here, let alone seventy years in the future."

Tracing the letters on the headstones, Steve bowed his head and cried, his shoulders shaking. He had to set down the other flowers he bought and he covered his face with his hands. Heaving in a deep breath, he choked out, "_I don't know if I can keep doing this_."

He managed to pull himself together, wiping furiously at his eyes until the tears slowed. He then pressed his fingers to each headstone and whispered, "I promise to visit more often, Ma."

Steve then forced himself to look at the headstone next to his mother's. A headstone he hadn't wanted to look at quite at first. _ His own_. Frowning, Steve stared at the headstone for a little while. He'd been asked where he'd wanted to be buried before he even gotten the serum. It'd been part of the information he'd given so that they knew what to do if that chamber had just killed him. After all, no one had known if he would survive the procedure. Oh, Erskine and Stark had been _ pretty sure_, but they always love to cover their tracks. Once he'd joined the war, he'd thought about that information less and less. After all, he was healthy, healthier than he'd ever been in his entire life, so why would he worry about death?

_ Son, brother, friend, and hero_

Steve grit his teeth as he read that. _ Hero_. Steve wasn't even sure if he knew what that word meant anymore. Even when he'd known what that word meant, he hadn't pictured himself when he'd thought of it. Shaking his head, Steve then gathered up the rest of the flowers and headed through the cemetery, looking for the Barnes family plot. It didn't take long to find and he wasn't surprised to see Winnifred and George's graves. George had lived until 1969 and Winnifred had lived until 1970. He carefully set flowers on their graves and then closed his eyes. He counted to ten, bracing himself and hoping It would prepare him, but it didn't. He opened his eyes and immediately fell to his knees as he saw Bucky's grave with Vivian's right next to his.

_James Buchanan Barnes_

_1917-1945_

_ And surely I am with you always, to the end of the age. _

_ Matthew 28:20 _

Steve's vision blurred as he placed a bouquet on Bucky's grave, nearly choking on air as he forced himself to count to ten. He then counted to a hundred when ten didn't work. After a few minutes, he managed to pull himself together to look at Vivian's.

_ Vivian Alana Barnes-Peshkova _

_ 1918-1943 _

_ Do not urge me to leave you or to turn back from you._

_Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay._

_Your people will be my people and your God my God. _

_ Ruth 1:16 _

The flowers fell out of Steve's hands, hitting the ground as he buried his face in his hands and just _ sobbed_. His throat and lungs felt like they were burning as he stifled the sounds he was making. Steve pressed his hand tighter against his mouth, heaving in breaths through his nose. His right hand fell from his face and he braced it against the ground. His fingertips gripped the grass tightly until he remembered there was nothing under the ground for either grave. Falling back, Steve reached up with both hands and tugged at his hair as he gave a shuddering gasp. Winnifred and George had buried empty graves. They'd put up tombstones on empty plots of land, a place to mourn the loved ones that would never return to them. A place to remember their son and the daughter-in-law they'd almost had. A place to remember what the war had stolen from them. 

Steve sat there, just staring at those headstones for hours, remembering little details of Bucky and Vivian interacting. He remembered their smiles, their laughs, the way Vivian would roll her eyes when Bucky would kiss her cheek after he annoyed her. He remembered the way they would look at each other as they danced around the apartment or the way they'd swing around in dance halls. He also remembered how Vivian and Bucky would both look at him. He remembered how they'd pull him close in bed. He remembered them teaching him how to dance. He remembered them kissing him slowly. He remembered Vivian patching him up after a fight.

It was only as the sun started to set that Steve pulled himself up and began heading back for the subway. His entire body felt heavy and exhausted, like he'd climbed a mountain. This time when he got onto the subway, he took a seat and just stared at his feet. He stared at them until he got to his stop and then immediately jumped up, leaving as quickly as he possibly could. As soon as he reached the sidewalk, it was like his body suddenly went into overdrive. He had to get home as quickly as possible, and so he did. He took off into a run and _ ran _ to his apartment without stopping. Once he was into his apartment, he locked his door and then hung up his keys before kicking off his shoes. As soon as they were off, he then headed straight for his bedroom and lay down on the bed. The idea of changing his clothes or getting under the blankets just seemed like too much and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, for those of you who've obsessively watched that 'extended scene' from Avengers that this is heavily inspired by, you'll probably remember that Peggy's file actually said she was living in England. However, I didn't think it made sense to keep that true only to have her living in DC a few years later when Steve is going to live there. Therefore, I'm having it so that she was in America for a long ass time.
> 
> Sorry about how sad this chapter was. Hopefully y'all still liked it? Please? Hopefully?
> 
> I'm also extremely proud of the bible verses I chose for Bucky and Viv's graves. I used to be religious, and I really love it when I can find things that perfectly fit characters and situations. However, forgot to mention this when I first posted the chapter, but my lovely best friend/practically sister Gina was the one who suggested the verse on Bucky's grave. She's extremely good at angst.


	6. Six: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Steve has PTSD but isn't acknowledging that it's PSTSD. He also experiences what is a panic attack, but he doesn't realize what it is. There's also an extremely small amount of self-harm during that panic attack in the form of taking a scalding shower.
> 
> If you're not able to read either the description of a panic attack or the scalding shower, which doesn't get graphic but could still be triggering then there is a way to skip that entire section.
> 
> "Should have left it in the ocean," Steve bit out, but kept walking.
> 
> That's the sentence before the scene begins and the following sentence signifies that the scene is finished being described.
> 
> As soon as he got back into the apartment, Steve tossed his bag to the ground and then headed straight to his office.
> 
> Steve is for sure still struggling at the time, but the actual anxiety attack is not being acknowledged nor described at that time.

"War! With the forces of darkness pressing in from the East, from the West, America heeds the call to fight for freedom! And at the front of the front, shoulder to shoulder with our battling boys, is Captain America, a product of old-fashioned values and exciting new science! Captain America is the name every Nazi fears! Uncle Adolf's secret new weapons? No match for our man! When tough times turn tougher, when hope's on the ropes, here's the man to knock the Axis on their backses! He's out there, fighting for the land that we love, and he won't stop…"

Steve paused the footage and stared blankly at the now dark screen of his computer. It was the first time in a few weeks that he'd allowed himself to think back to the war. After coming back from the cemetery, he'd tried to stifle all of those feelings and just keep going. He didn't _ want _ to be angry. He didn't _ want _ to deal with that pain. He didn't _ want _ to wake up every day with that crushing weight of sadness on him. And so he'd gone grocery shopping, worked out in a gym, gone to the park, and gone on runs, but every time he'd come close to even just letting his mind wander, he'd force it to do something tedious. Crossword puzzles, translating everything around him into German and French. Whatever it took to keep his mind occupied.

Deep down he'd known it wouldn't last forever, but he was hoping it would last _ a little longer than it had_. His dreams were always uncontrollable though, always going to something he didn't want to focus on. This morning, he'd woken up still able to smell gunpowder, and taste Bucky, so he'd forced himself into the shower. This time, the more he tried to push the images and memories away, the worse it got until after he was dressed, he just sat down and just watched footage.

The footage had been propaganda, pure and simple, but it had still made his heart ache to see himself back then. There'd been a sadness to his gaze, but he'd still been somewhat optimistic. He'd had a goal. He'd had a _ mission _. And Bucky had been by his side in more than a few of those shots. The Howlies in general had been, but Bucky had definitely been nearby, a smile on his lips and nothing but devotion in his gaze.

_ He's out there, fighting for the land that we love, and he won't stop… _

Shaking his head, Steve wondered how he'd had that kind of single mindedness on anything back then, and then he wondered where that kind of attitude had gone. He'd had it for so many things back before the ice. Once he'd gotten an idea into his head, he fought for it and was damn certain he was ready to die for it. And now he just…it was like he couldn't get a clear enough thought in his head to even follow. That idea of just having a clear vision at all was a mystery. How could he know anything anymore? How could he be certain about his role in the world ever again?

Sighing, Steve grabbed his coat and his bag of workout gear before he left the apartment. For a moment he stopped by his new motorcycle and just _ stared _ at it. Agent Tanner had, after Steve had cautiously texted about what problems there would be getting him a driver's license, shown up and practically escorted him to the DMV. Tanner had seemed thrilled about the whole thing, which was probably the first and last time anyone would ever be excited to be in that government building. Once he had his license, he bought himself a motorcycle. Agent Tanner had been more than a little worried, but Steve had ignored him. A motorcycle is what he wanted.

Letting his fingertips run along the handlebars, Steve then sighed and began walking instead. He wasn't in the right headspace to deal with traffic in the slightest. He was more likely to end up pissing someone off. Besides, his workout bag was a pain in the ass to secure to that bike.

He walked past big stores with huge advertisements and tiny kiosks selling everything from cell phones to sunglasses to what Steve suspected were counterfeit purses. It'd taken him a while to get used to seeing products like that sold on the streets. There'd always been someone selling something on the streets of New York before the ice, so it wasn't a complete change, but it also wasn't the same.

Taking the subway to Manhattan ended up being less annoying than he suspected it would be for the time of day he was going. Once he was there, he headed to a small café, sitting down and ordering himself coffee while staring up at the big tower. Stark Tower. File said Howard's son lived there. File also said his son had built himself a flying suit to fight crime in. Pulling out a pad of paper and pen, Steve began sketching the building. It'd been a long time since he'd drawn anything.

"Waiting on the big guy?"

Glancing up at his waitress, Beth, Steve tilted his head and asked, "Ma'am?"

"Iron man," she said simply. "A lot of people eat here just to see him fly by."

"Right," Steve said. For a moment Steve wondered if some bizarre series of events would happen to have Anthony Stark run into him, and the thought of that made his stomach turn. The idea of talking to someone who looked so much like Howard but wasn't Howard just…felt wrong. Pulling money out of his pocket, Steve deflected, "Maybe another time."

"Table's yours as long as you like," Beth insisted, pouring him some more coffee. "Nobody's waiting on it. Plus we've got free wireless."

Beth was nice and pretty and sweet. Her blonde hair had a tendril that fell in front of her face, especially when she'd lean over to pour coffee or just when she was rushing around. Back before the war, she probably would have been the kind of gal that Bucky would have encouraged him to take out on a date for show.

"Ask for her number, you moron." 

Glancing back at the old man who'd hissed that over his shoulder at him, Steve frowned and glanced back at Beth. It'd be easy to just do that. Easy to just go up and pretend he was just some normal guy who just wanted to go on a date with a normal woman. At least it would be for that moment. It'd be easy to let himself get lost in a familiar combination, but the truth was that Beth wasn't Vivian. And while times had changed in the dating scene, he was pretty sure they hadn't changed enough for a woman to want to be asked out because she had a passing resemblance to someone else. People tended to want to be asked out because of who they actually were, not because some creep wanted to relive a memory of another person.

Grabbing his bag and getting up, Steve headed onto the subway and sat down, setting his bag next to him as he stared out the window. The best part about riding the subway in New York was that people tended to mind their own business. He'd seen think pieces about how young people didn't pay attention to other people around them anymore, citing how they were always on their phones or reading or something, not talking to their neighbors.

In a way, Steve sort of understood how that could be frustrating, despite the fact that it was how people had _ always _ been, but he also knew that he didn't _ want _ anyone to talk to him while he was on the subway. He didn't want them to even notice him. He just wanted to get to his destination. Still, there was also something… _ lonely _ about riding the subway on his own.

Luckily, the trip didn't take too long and then he was at his stop, getting out and heading to the gym. He'd learned pretty quickly that toward closing, if he paid the manager some money, he could have one of the workout areas all for himself. At this point they didn't even have to speak as he handed over the cash and the man handed over a key. Taking it and then getting changed into workout gear, Steve taped his hands. By the time he'd set up, the area he was in was abandoned. The only sound was his own breathing and the bag swinging on the chain.

The rhythmic sound soon faded and his vision blurred. Everything slid out of focus and his mind wandered, images flashing through his mind of before the war. Vivian whispering to him as he lay sick in bed. Getting the serum. Finding Bucky in that factory. Discovering Vivian was dead. Running through the forest with the Howling Commandos. Bucky falling just before he could be reached. _ That plane_. He'd insisted he had to put it into the water, but he hadn't really. He'd had a choice. He'd had a choice and he'd _ chosen _ to put the plane into the water. He remembered the plane hitting the ice and the freezing water and the next punch he landed sent the bag sailing across the room.

The bag hit the ground and Steve took a shuddering breath, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped from his hair, and he turned around and grabbed a new bag to put up. Sighing and pushing his sweaty hair out of his face, Steve rolled his shoulders slightly before he began punching the new bag. Maybe this time he could exhaust himself to the point where he'd be able to sleep without dreaming.

"Trouble sleeping?"

Steve paused, wondering how many different languages he could say the word _ fuck _ in as he saw Director Fury coming into the room.

"I slept for seventy years, sir. I think I've had my fill," Steve lied as he punched the bag, proud of himself for not just turning and telling the director of the organization Peggy and Howard built to go fuck himself.

"Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world," Fury insisted, moving closer still.

Steve punched the bag a few more times, but then held the bag steady, pausing as he glanced over at Fury. The thought of telling this man to fuck off went through his mind for a moment, just a moment, before it went away again. Shaking his head, Steve then walked away from the bag, unwrapping his hands as he decided the gym was getting a little too crowded. "When I went under, the world was at war," Steve admitted. "I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost."

"We've made some mistakes along the way," Fury agreed. Steve unzipped his gym bag and threw the first of the wrappings in before moving over to his other hand. "Some very recently."

"You here with a mission, _ sir_?" Steve asked blandly.

"I am."

"Trying to get me back in the world again?" Steve asked. He hoped he hadn't sounded as bitter as he felt.

"Trying to _ save it_," Fury insisted, holding out a file.

Glancing over, Steve felt a lump forming in his throat and an iron grip forming around his stomach. Steve took the file and sat down. As soon as he looked at the image, he felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Hydra's secret weapon," Steve whispered, flipping the page.

"Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Fury insisted. Steve stared at the photograph of it, icy terror filling him before he glanced up at Fury as the man continued speaking. "He thought what we think, that the tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs."

Steve closed the file and held it out, trying to keep his expression as emotionless as possible as he asked, "Who took it from you?"

"He's called Loki. He's…not from around here," Fury admitted. Steve sure hoped so because last he checked, characters from mythology _ weren't real_. Before he could ask about that, Fury admitted, "There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. More than you already have. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."

Steve stood up and zipped up his workout bag before picking up and admitting, "At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me."

"Ten bucks says you're wrong," Fury taunted.

Going over and grabbing a new punching bag, Steve started heading off, his body tense as Fury called over to him, "There's a debriefing packet waiting for you back at your apartment."

Steve just kept walking. He was desperately trying to keep it together as Fury then asked, "Is there anything you can tell us about the tesseract that we ought to know now?"

"Should have left it in the ocean," Steve bit out, but kept walking.

Once he got to a quieter room, Steve hung up the bag and punched it, but he couldn't regulate his own strength. The bag just snapped off the chain immediately, slamming into the wall. Gripping at his sweaty hair, Steve forced himself to count back from a hundred, but it wouldn't work. The room was too stifling, and he found himself unable to think, unable to breathe.

That goddamn tesseract wasn't supposed to be there.

It was supposed to be _ gone_. It'd been _ gone_. It'd been at the bottom of the goddamn ocean and Stark just couldn't help himself. Just couldn't stop himself from pulling that cursed item out of the depths. That thing had been used to create weapons, weapons that had slaughtered good men, weapons that had been used to capture Bucky and Vivian. _ That cube was the reason Vivian and Bucky were both dead_.

Shaking his head, Steve forced himself to clean up before taking a nearly boiling hot shower. He'd hoped that between the prickling pain of the heat and the steam that he'd be able to get out of his head, be able to push out the pain he felt inside, but it didn't work. As soon as he was dressed, he slung his bag over his shoulder and didn't even bother with the subway. He just _ ran _ home. He ran for miles, not letting himself stop to even catch his breath. Not that he really needed to. The serum took care of all of that. The serum kept him on his feet beyond what any normal man should be able to endure.

As soon as he got back into the apartment, Steve tossed his bag to the ground and then headed straight to his office. Just like Fury said, there was a file on the table. Leaning on the doorway, Steve closed his eyes, telling himself he didn't need to do this, that this wasn't his problem, but even as he thought that, he knew it wasn't true. This was everyone's problem. That weapon of Schmidt's had the power to wipe out entire armies. Opening his eyes and sitting in front of his desk, he stared at the information. Loki apparently had a stick that could mind control people and had taken at least two of SHIELD's most valuable agents.

Getting up, Steve paced, glancing at the landline in his apartment as he thought about what he was supposed to do. Should he give up the idea of Steve Rogers? Should he let Rogers die and just wholly accept Captain America as who he was now? Should he leave this comfortable apartment and dive headfirst into another battle, another war, another time of being a soldier?

A minute passed and Steve picked up the phone, dialing Fury's number before he announced, "I'm in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is once again based off that extended scene from the extras of the DVD. And of course, the rest of it are based on the actual scene from the movie that everyone knows, but I edited slightly. I wanted it to be different.
> 
> Oh and if anyone wants me to write out Steve getting a license, you're just going to have to imagine it on your own, because I decided that only cold hard cash would get me to write out an experience at the DMV because at best boring and at worst infuriating. I don't wanna do it. I'm not going to research it. I'm not going to write it out. Steve got it done and he got his motorcycle because that man is a good good motorcycle boy. It's also just wild that people typically view Bucky as the motorcycle boy even though there's literally only 1 scene of him interacting with a motorcycle in the entire mcu, but up until Civil War, Steve rides a motorcycle in every movie he's in.
> 
> Also, guess what, guys! We're now firmly in Avengers territory! No, I'm serious. The next THREE chapters are the events of Avengers. Chapters 7 and 8 are Steve's POV and chapter 9 is Viv's. It's gonna be exciting. Oh and chapter 10 starts off with the end of Avengers and is from Steve's POV. So, technically next four. Most of chapter 10 is about something else though.


	7. Seven: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: fighting
> 
> There's not many warnings for this, because this chapter covers Avengers up until the scene with Thor in it. I'll have a few more warnings on the next chapter, but otherwise I can't think of any for this one.
> 
> As always, if I missed something, please let me know and I'll add it.

Steve managed to get a quick nap in before Agent Tanner showed up, looking more than a little eager to chauffeur him around. Smiling weakly and heading after him, Steve just let him talk for a while, not even listening to a word he said as they made their way off. Nothing Agent Tanner said was particularly interesting, but the sound was becoming a bit like white noise the more the overeager agent spoke. Once the car stopped, Steve nodded and got out, heading toward the plane where a man in a suit was waiting. Unfortunately this man _ also _ looked more than a little overeager. As soon as Steve was close, the man was sticking out a hand and announcing, "Agent Phil Coulson."

Shaking his hand, Steve nodded, "Steve Rogers."

Agent Coulson grinned from ear to ear, seeming more than a little amused by the reaction for some reason. Arching an eyebrow, he then nodded again as Coulson's eyes widened before he announced, "Oh, right, this way. This'll take us to the helicarrier. Fury's waiting for us."

"Understood," Steve said, following Coulson on board. As soon as the door was shut, Steve took a seat next to the wall, surprised when he was handed a holographic tablet with even more information than had been on the file he had in his apartment. Coulson opened his mouth to say something, but then cleared his throat and sat down in front of a screen, putting on headphones as the pilot turned around and gave him a thumbs up.

Glancing at the tablet, Steve began looking through the information on Bruce Banner, frowning as it immediately brought up the results of a rekindled Project Rebirth. There were photos of him before the experiment and then photos of him after. One was a normal, unassuming looking man, and the other was a green monster out of some dime novel. Flipping back to Banner's biography, Steve found himself actually more impressed by the number of things the man was an expert in. Going back, he noticed how almost all of the information in the file though, other than the fact that he was an expert in gamma radiation, was just photos and footage of him as 'The Hulk'. He flipped through them, his mind wandering and wondering what it would be like to go through a change like that. Did it hurt?

"We're about 40 minutes out from base, sir," the pilot announced.

Steve glanced up as Coulson took off his headphones and took the opportunity as he was approached to ask, "So, this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?"

"A lot of people were," Coulson said. "You were the world's first superhero."

_ Superhero_. Steve wasn't sure how he felt about that word, especially when it was being applied to him. It felt _ wrong_, like the word was too big for him in some way.

"Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula," Coulson explained.

Steve watched on the screen as the Hulk _ screamed _ and picked up a car, slamming it back to the ground. Frowning, Steve quietly said, "Didn't really go his way, did it?"

"Not so much," Coulson agreed. "When he's not that thing, though, the guy's like a Stephen Hawking."

Steve glanced up at that. He'd read about Stephen Hawking and he eyed Coulson curiously. Despite the fact that Banner had seven PhD's, there didn't seem to be much overlap in the fields of study the two men did. He was about to ask if he'd missed something when Coulson got an awkward look on his face as he explained, "He's like…a smart person."

Steve wanted to sigh as he nodded and looked back at the tablet. Of course Coulson didn't think he knew who Stephen Hawking was. Maybe next time he should just _ tell people _ that he knew what they were referencing. Maybe then he wouldn't get this…awkward explanation from them.

"I gotta say, it's an honor to meet you…officially," Coulson said eagerly. Steve smiled, glancing back up from the tablet only to wish he hadn't as Coulson explained, "I _ sort of _ met you. I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping."

Steve's smile slid from his face and he had a delirious moment where he wondered if he could just jump straight out of the aircraft and into the ocean.

"I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice," Coulson tried to backtrack as Steve got up and headed closer to the pilot and copilot. At least near the front, he could stare out at the ocean and imagine he wasn't having this conversation.

"You know, it's really just a huge honor to have you on board this…"

Keeping his gaze forward, Steve tried to change the subject, "Well, I hope I'm the man for the job."

"Oh, you are," Coulson insisted. "Absolutely. Uh, we made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input."

Steve glanced over at Coulson curiously, "The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little…old fashioned?"

Coulson shrugged, "With everything that's happening and the things that are about to come to light, people might just _ need _ a little old-fashioned."

Steve swallowed hard and nodded, staring out at the sky again after that. He wasn't sure how much he believed the agent about that, but he _ wanted _ to believe. Sitting back down, Steve went back to looking at the footage and then swapping to looking further at the file on the cube as well as the file on Banner. The file said they wanted Banner to track the cube, but Steve wasn't entirely certain.

The file certainly had a lot of information on _ The Hulk _ for one that wanted to pretend all it cared about was Banner. The file also had information on a Natasha Romanoff, a highly decorated agent whose skills seemed to be more on the assassin side than anything else. If all they wanted was to track the cube, this was certainly an odd way to go about it.

"Sir, we're about to land," Coulson said, buckling himself up.

Closing up the tablet and putting it away, Steve buckled himself in and then braced himself, surprised by how gentle the landing was. Once the plane landed, he was up and following Coulson out, blinking at the place they landed as Coulson instructed the first agent they saw, "Stow the Captain's gear."

Glancing over, he then spotted a redhead that he recognized from the file as Natasha. This was only confirmed as Coulson announced, "Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers."

"Ma'am," Steve said politely.

"Hi," Natasha said dismissively to him before focusing on Coulson, "They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face-trace."

Coulson nodded, "See you there."

Coulson walked off and Steve was surprised when Natasha locked eyes with him before she said, "It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was going to swoon." Steve smiled at that, but then glanced over in confusion as she asked, "Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"Trading cards?" Steve asked, mystified. He'd remembered a lot of propaganda and merchandise being slung back in the war, but he didn't recognize _ trading cards _ of himself. He figured he either missed it or it was done after he'd already been 'dead'.

"They're vintage," Natasha said dismissively. "He's very proud."

They continued walking forward and Steve wanted to sigh as he saw a man looking more out of place than he did. Banner was anxiously moving between people and his gaze kept frantically darting at everything around him. He'd seen men looking like that after the war, like they were afraid of their own shadow.

"Dr. Banner," Steve announced, holding out his hand.

"Yeah, hi," Bruce Banner said, gaze darting between them as he shook his hand. "They told me you'd be coming."

"Word is you can find the cube," Steve replied.

Bruce nodded, looking like he had more than a few comments on that as he retorted, "Is that the only word on me?"

"Only word I care about," Steve said firmly and he could see the relief flood through Banner's expression.

"Must be strange for you, all of this," Bruce said, gesturing around him.

Steve glanced around and smiled as he spotted soldiers moving together, planes being secured, and gear being stowed. "Well, this is actually kind of familiar."

"Gentlemen, you might want to step aside in a minute," Natasha interrupted. "It's…going to get a little hard to breathe."

There was a loud noise after that and Steve glanced around in confusion as he could _ hear _ huge components of the ship just start folding up. He could hear a lot of things, but he wasn't exactly sure what was happening.

"Is this a submarine?" Steve asked, not really certain.

"Really?" Bruce scoffed. "They want _ me _in a submerged, pressurized, metal container?"

They moved closer to the edge of the ship and then Steve found himself staring in awe as a truly enormous propeller began lifting up from the ocean. Glancing further down, he saw another one, which meant this thing had _ four _ of those massive things. The ship then, instead of going underwater, began _ lifting into the air_. Taking a step back, Steve could only just be impressed, but he could also understand Bruce's sentiment as he groaned, "No, no, this is _ much _ worse."

Smiling weakly over at Bruce, the two then turned and followed Natasha inside. Inside was a sort of command center with dozens of screens and dozens of agents all bustling about and handling one aspect of the ship or another. Staring up, Steve saw huge glass windows and bright lights. The whole place just _ felt _ like some odd dream Bucky had cooked up while trying to entertain him.

"Let's vanish," Fury announced.

Steve glanced over curiously at that, but then looked out the window, his eyes widening as the bits of the ship that he had been able to see through the window suddenly seemed to disappear. Moving toward the table where Banner was, Steve nodded as Fury strolled over and announced, "Gentlemen."

Pulling out his wallet, Steve pulled out a crisp ten dollar bill and handed it to Fury before moving forward again to stare out the windows. Last time he'd been in the air this high, he'd been trying to stop the eastern coastline from being blown to kingdom come, so he hadn't exactly had time to appreciate the view fully. This time he could just look at the clouds. He made himself go back over as Banner asked, "Where are you on that?"

Coulson nodded to the monitors around him, "We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones, laptops…if it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

Natasha crouched down next to a monitor with a picture on it. Steve recognized the photo as one of the agents that had been taken by Loki. "It's still not going to be enough," she said softly.

"You have to narrow your field," Banner said. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" Fury retorted.

Steve realized then that he wouldn't actually be any help with technical jargon like that. He had a basic understanding of what the cube was, how it operated, and what they needed to do to find it, but the ins and outs of how someone were to track it wasn't something he'd learned yet. He just knew Banner needed access to equipment and time to write a code to get that equipment to do what he wanted it to do.

And it seemed like the staff was just fine just letting Steve wander as long as he didn't get in the way. As he was standing by and watching, Coulson came up to him, looking even more nervous than he had earlier as he asked quietly, "I understand if this is inappropriate, and feel free to say no, but would you mind signing my trading cards? I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no, it's fine," Steve insisted, his arms folded across his chest.

"It's a vintage set," Coulson added proudly. "It took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near mint. Slight foxing around the edges, but…"

"We've got a hit," said an agent whose name tag read Sitwell. He turned around in his chair, interrupting the conversation and saving Steve. "A 67% match." He then glanced back and announced, "Wait. Cross match, 79%."

"Location?" Coulson asked, switching from awkward fan to serious agent so quickly that Steve almost had whiplash from it.

"Stuttgart, Germany. 28 Königstrasse. He's not exactly hiding," Agent Sitwell admitted.

"Captain, you're up," Fury announced.

Steve exchanged a glance with Fury before he went to suit up. The room it was in had him staring in awe for a moment, not used to seeing any of the things quite like that. His suit was behind glass and on each wall there seemed to be just dozens of pieces of gear. All of it was pristine and identical. Opening up the case with his suit in it, he then winced upon closer inspection. The suit seemed closer to the outfit he wore while punching out Hitler than it did to the one he wore while he actually fought Nazis.

He methodically put it on, glad that he wasn't wearing tights at the very least. The number of zippers did give him pause, especially once he remembered that Coulson had been proud of his design input. Part of him was curious what kind of awkward response the man would have to being asked what exactly he helped design, but he figured that answer would have to wait.

After he had his suit on and had his shield firmly on his arm, he had help putting the earpiece in (that he wasn't used to at all) before he put the cowl and helmet on. Once that was done, Steve headed into a quinjet with Natasha and moved toward the target. Upon arriving, Steve glared as _ rage _ filled him, and Loki ranted, his voice amplified over the crowd.

"It's the unspoken truth of humanity that you _ crave _ subjugation. The bright lure of freedom _ diminishes _ your life's joy in a mad scramble for _ power_, for _ identity_. You were made _ to be ruled _ . In the end, _ you will always kneel_."

An older man stood up after that, and for a moment Steve could only watch in awe of this man as he announced, "Not to men like you."

"There are no men like me," Loki scoffed.

The old man shook his head, "There are _ always _ men like you."

"Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example," Loki jeered.

Leaping out of the quinjet at that, Steve landed hard in front of the old man, blocking the beam of light with his shield, the energy bouncing back and hitting Loki in the chest. Moving forward, Steve glared as he loudly said, "You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

As he moved through the crowd, others began staring. Loki stood up and sneered, "The soldier. The man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time," Steve retorted as the quinjet made itself known.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," Natasha said over a loudspeaker. 

Loki fired a beam of light at the quinjet, sending it off course, and Steve threw his shield at him, hitting him in the shoulder. As Loki was dazed, Steve rushed forward, punching him in the face only for Loki to barely even register it and then slam his scepter against the shield. Steve had to brace himself, his feet sliding out slightly as he actually felt that hit.

Unfortunately, as he tried to keep his balance, Loki was able to knock his shield away before slamming the scepter into his gut, knocking the air out of him. Flying backward and hitting the ground hard, Steve wondered deliriously what Loki was even made of to be able to hit like that. He didn't look like he was capable of it and Steve cursed himself for underestimating him. He knew better than to do something that foolish.

Getting up, Steve threw his shield, racing behind it and gritting his teeth as Loki knocked the shield to the side. Steve didn't let that slow him down and began throwing punches, dodging backward as best he could from the long sweeping arc of that scepter as Loki slashed it toward him. As Loki thrust himself forward, Steve managed to punch the man in the side near as hard as he could only for Loki to slam his scepter into his back and send him flying forward. Steve scrambled up, getting to his knees when he felt the scepter press against the back of his head while Loki hissed, "_Kneel_."

"Not today," Steve snarled, grabbing the scepter and then flipping up, kicking Loki in the head.

He twisted to get a better angle, and Loki grabbed him, tossing him over to the side. Steve rolled to the side as Loki tried to hit him, but glanced up toward the quinjet incredulously as music began pouring out of it. Within seconds, Steve sighed as Iron Man flew in and sent two powerful beams at Loki, knocking him clear across the square before he landed. Loki hit the steps hard, but sat up within seconds, glaring over as Iron Man held up a hand with a repulsor beam charging up in one hand and missiles at the ready on the other arm.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games," the tinny sounding voice announced from the suit.

Getting up, Steve grabbed the shield and stood next to Stark, beginning to catch his breath as Loki switched from an odd outfit to an outfit that Steve still considered a little odd, but was closer to what people were wearing. At least this outfit didn't have horns. He then raised his hands in surrender.

"Good move," Stark retorted, lowering his weapons.

"Mr. Stark," Steve said, still trying to catch his breath.

"Captain," Stark retorted.

The quinjet landed and Steve grabbed Loki by the arm, leading him into the aircraft as Stark followed. Within minutes they were in the air, although it took even less time for Steve to take his helmet off and push his cowl off his head. Stark took off his helmet, giving a mocking glare to Loki before standing near the cockpit. Steve joined him, an odd feeling of unease filling him as he saw that Loki was just sitting quietly. He didn't even react to Stark's taunting expressions either. It all just felt…wrong.

"I don't like it," Steve confessed.

"What, Rock of Ages giving up so easily?" Stark jeered.

"I don't remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop," Steve admitted with a frown.

"Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow," Stark said, glancing him up and down in an appraising way. "What's your thing, Pilates?"

"What?" Steve snapped.

"It's like calisthenics," Stark replied, as if that explained absolutely anything. "You might have missed a couple of things doing time as a Capsicle."

Steve decided to not rise to whatever odd baiting this was and instead redirected, "Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in."

"Yeah, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you," Stark replied easily.

A loud crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning pierced through the sky, causing Steve to frown. Something about it felt _ off_, but he couldn't place why. After all, they were in the sky in a _ plane_, and storms weren't exactly unusual.

"Where's this coming from?" Natasha demanded.

Glancing over, Steve realized Loki actually looked _ afraid_. That would-be tyrant who had stood in front of an entire crowd and demanded subjugation, that man who had taken lives without a second thought was actually _ nervous_. His hands were clenched and his eyes were darting around the plane. He looked like he was seeking an escape. He hadn't had that expression for any other part of the night. Not when he was captured and sure as hell not on the plane up until that moment.

"What's the matter? Are you scared of a little lightning?" Steve taunted, trying to goad some sort of explanation out of the man.

"I'm not overly fond of what follows," Loki admitted, much to Steve's surprise. The answer actually sounded honest, and Steve hadn't really expected that. He'd expected _ some _ response that he would gleam something from, but there seemed to be something that followed thunder and lightning that Loki was really afraid of.

Exchanging a glance with Stark, Steve glanced up as he heard a loud thud come from the ceiling and the plane jostled slightly. Steve braced himself and prepared to put his helmet back on if need be, although he wasn't exactly sure what the issue at hand was. It wasn't like he could_ fight the sky_. Lightning exploded in the sky and Stark put his helmet back on before he moved to the back of the plane, opening up the cargo door.

"What are you doing?" Steve shouted over the wind.

As soon as the door opened, a man with long blond hair carrying a hammer strode on and shoved Stark back. Steve had to bite back a groan as Stark landed on him, sending them both into the ground. Metal started to dig into Steve's skin and he quickly pushed Stark back up onto his feet. Unfortunately it was just in time to see the newcomer grab Loki and tug him out of his seat before _ flying _out of the plane.

"And now there's that guy," Stark complained.

"Another Asgardian?" Natasha shouted.

"That guy's a friendly?" Steve demanded, pulling up his cowl and putting on his helmet.

"Doesn't matter," Stark snapped. "If he frees Loki or kills him, the tesseract's lost."

"Stark, we need a plan of attack!" Steve shouted as Stark turned away and began heading toward the open door.

"I have a plan. Attack," Stark replied nonchalantly before he flew out of the plane.

Grabbing a parachute, Steve sighed, anger filling him as he shrugged it on. 

"I'd sit this one out, Cap," Natasha insisted.

"I don't see how I can," Steve replied testily as he fastened the straps.

"These guys come from legend. They're basically gods," Natasha said as she continued to fly the plane.

"And I just came back from the dead after being buried for seventy years. I'd say we're about even, ma'am," Steve replied coolly as he grabbed his shield and then jumped out of the plane. Wind whipped around him, hitting the exposed part of his face. He pulled his parachute at the right moment, but it was still a little rough from the howling winds.

Landing hard on the ground, Steve knew he hadn't landed exactly where Stark, Loki, and presumably Thor (if Steve's feverish memories of Vivian reading stories from mythology held up) had landed. He knew where to go though considering he could _ hear _ the fighting. He rushed forward, glaring as he spotted Stark fighting the blond instead of watching over Loki or just getting Loki back to the damn plane.

"Hey!" Steve shouted, throwing his shield, causing it to bounce between the two, breaking the fight up before it bounced back to him. "That's enough."

Steve then leapt down to the ground before standing up, glaring at the two men, "Now, I don't know what you plan on doing here."

"I've come here to put an end to Loki's schemes!" he shouted.

"Then prove it," Steve replied. "Put that hammer down."

"Uh, yeah, no. Bad call. He loves his hammer," Stark announced anxiously only to be cut off by Thor slamming the hammer into Stark and sending him hurtling into the tree.

Thor then turned, looking furious as he screamed, "_You want me to put the hammer down_?"

Thor leapt into the air and before he even started coming down, Steve put his shield over his head, bracing himself as best as he could as the hammer came down. The contact of the hammer and the shield sent a shockwave of energy through the forest, an explosion really. The light was almost blinding and the sheer volume of sound made Steve's ears ring as the force blew him onto the ground.

After a moment, Steve got back up, shaking his head as he glanced around to see that their little skirmish had leveled half the damn forest. Glancing between the other two, he took a deep breath before he asked, "Are we done here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swapped out the 'There's only one God and he doesn't dress like that" line because I've always found that line kind of stupid. Like I get that maybe Joss Whedon wanted to make it clear Steve's Christian, but it just came across as...weird. Plus, who gives a fuck what God does or does not dress like?
> 
> This chapter got posted a little later than usual due to exhaustion from working overtime last week and also having a very heavy period.


	8. Eight: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: violence, suicidal ideation from both Bruce and Steve, and minor character death
> 
> If you've seen Avengers, you know what character dies, but it probably still deserves a warning.
> 
> Also, this is a pretty decently lengthed chapter and honestly the length of this chapter alone was the reason I knew I had to split the movie up into multiple chapters. I probably could have done it as less than four chapters, but that would have been an absurdly long chapter out of nowhere.

For a moment the newcomer just glanced around at the remnants of the forest before he nodded. Without a word, the three of them headed up to the cliff where Loki shockingly still remained. Steve had half expected the man to have run off. And then, to make matters more interesting, Loki didn't resist going back onto the quinjet whatsoever. He also remained silent the entire way to the helicarrier, didn't do or say a single thing as he was cuffed and guarded by a whole group of armed men. None of it made any sense. Loki didn't look worried or bothered in the slightest. Hell, for a moment, Steve thought the man looked _ pleased_.

Steve took the cowl and the helmet back off, hating the feeling of it anyway as he then headed back toward that meeting table. The others joined as well, minus Stark, and Thor glanced around before he gruffly announced, "I am Thor, son of Odin."

Steve was more than a little intrigued about how his guess had been right about Thor, but then immediately felt a pang of sadness. He realized that the people he wanted to talk to most about this, Bucky and Viv, would never get to find out all those stories were based on truth. They would have both gotten a kick out of it though. Vivian especially.

"In case it's unclear, if you try to escape, you so much as _ scratch _ that glass…" Fury threatened on the video being played on the screens in front of them while he pressed a button. The sound of whistling wind almost drowned out Fury's voice as he continued, "It's 30,000 feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?" The sound disappeared and Fury gestured between Loki and the console as he mockingly said, "Ant, boot."

"It's an impressive cage," Loki said, grinning wildly. "Not built, I think, for me."

"Built for something a lot stronger than you," Fury said.

"Oh, I've heard," Loki said, turning and facing the camera. "A mindless beast. Makes play he's still a man."

Steve's jaw clenched as he let his gaze flit over to Banner for just a second. There was no secret about who Loki was mocking, and even though Steve he'd seen the footage of Banner as the Hulk, he was pretty sure Loki didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

"How _ desperate _are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?"

"How desperate am I?" Fury demanded. "You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill because it's _ fun_. You have made me _ very _ desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

"Ooh, it _ burns you _ to have come so close," Loki said mockingly. "To have the tesseract, to have power, _ unlimited power_, and for what? _ A warm light for all mankind to share_? And then to be reminded of what _ real power _ is."

Fury turned and scoffed, "Well, let me know if '_ real power _' wants a magazine or something."

The video flickered off as Fury left the room and Banner joked, "He really grows on you, doesn't he?"

"Loki's gonna drag this out," Steve sighed. "So, Thor, what's his play?"

"He has an army called the Chitauri," Thor said, turning toward the group. "They're not of Asgard, nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth. In turn, I suspect, for the tesseract."

"An army…from outer space," Steve said blandly, glancing over at Natasha. He wondered what she thought about all of this, but it was difficult to tell anything since her expression hadn't changed since she sat down.

"So he's building another portal," Banner said. "That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

"Selvig?" Thor asked.

"He's an astrophysicist," Banner explained.

"He's a friend," Thor confessed.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours," Natasha explained. It was only after she mentioned the SHIELD agent that she looked away, a flicker of something in her expression before she seemed to lock it down. Whoever it was that Loki had taken, Steve could tell he was important to her. He recognized the look in her eyes. He'd seen it in Bucky's. He'd seen it in Viv's. He'd seen it in his own. Natasha cared about this agent tremendously.

"I want to know why Loki let us take him," Steve said. "He's not leading an army from here."

Banner shook his head, "I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You could smell crazy on him."

"Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard," Thor said, his voice raising slightly. "And he is my brother."

"He killed 80 people in two days," Natasha said blandly.

"He's adopted," Thor corrected, and Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to not sigh.

"I think it's about the mechanics. Iridium. What do they need Iridium for?" Banner asked.

"It's a stabilizing agent," Stark said, coming in with Agent Coulson by his side. He whispered something to Coulson as the man gestured away, seeming to want to get away from the conversation. Stark didn't look deterred by whatever brush off he'd been given and then focused on the group. "It means the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD."

Stark moved toward Thor and tapped him on the arm while taunting, "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing." He turned and moved as much into the center of the room as he could. "Also, it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants."

Exchanging a glance with Natasha, Steve could feel a headache beginning as Tony exclaimed, "Raise the mizzenmast. Jib the topsails." The agents around looked at him incredulously until Stark pointed at a specific agent and announced, "That man is playing Galaga! He thought we wouldn't notice, but we did."

Steve honestly had no idea what Stark was talking about, but glanced over toward the agent anyway out of curiosity. The agent in question quickly minimized something on his screen.

"How does Fury even _ see these_?" Tony complained.

"He turns," Agent Hill snapped.

"Sounds _ exhausting_," Stark complained. He turned toward a different screen and manipulated data on it as he announced, "The rest of the raw materials Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. The only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy density. Something to kick-start the cube."

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Hill questioned.

"Last night," Stark said blandly. "The packet, Selvig's notes, the extraction theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

Steve _ had _ seen that there'd been notes on it in the packet back at his place. Unfortunately, he'd also been going longer without sleep than he'd care to admit, so he prioritized getting rest over learning thermonuclear astrophysics. Once he was on the plane, the tablet he'd been given had some information on it, but Steve had looked over the overviews as he'd decided to focus on the people since that was what his job before.

Back during the war, he needed a basic understanding of explosives, but his real job was making sure Dernier had the equipment he needed as well as the time and opening to plant it where it needed to go. He figured the set up would be similar in modern times as well. He didn't need to be an expert. He just needed to make sure the actual expert had what they needed.

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Steve asked, focusing instead on getting as many straight answers from Stark as he possibly could, although he suspected it would be difficult to do so.

"He would have to heat the Cube to 120 million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier," Banner said.

"Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect," Stark retorted.

"Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet," Banner replied.

"Finally, someone who speaks English," Stark said, pointing at Banner.

"Is that what just happened?" Steve asked, unable to help himself as the two scientists shook hands.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a _ huge fan _ of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage-monster," Stark said. Steve wanted to shake Stark for such a flippant, disrespectful remark.

"Thanks," Banner said, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Dr. Banner is _ only _ here to track the cube," Fury insisted, finally joining them. "I was hoping you might join him."

"I would start with that stick of his," Steve said. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube," Fury dismissed. "_ And _ I would like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys? I do not understand," Thor said with a frown.

"I do," Steve said, pointing at Thor and smiling. "I understood that reference," Steve continued, glancing at Banner and Stark who respectively looked uncomfortable and annoyed. Steve then realized that his plan to just _ let people know _ when he understood something wasn't always the best plan of action either.

"Shall we play, Doctor?" Stark asked Banner, turning to leave.

"This way, sir," Banner replied, motioning forward.

For a moment Steve just sat there, sorting through the information they'd learned. Loki and Thor were Asgardians who were from the planet Asgard as Norse mythology was all based on aliens from outer space and not actual gods. Somehow Hydra found that alien artifact during the war which then led them to make weapons from that alien artifact. Loki had used those alien artifacts to brainwash two men. And now he was going to use one of them to open a portal to bring in an entire alien army from a world that even Thor had no knowledge of.

Getting up and nodding at Romanoff, Steve headed off. He needed to think, needed to clear his mind, but also he felt a compulsion to keep an eye on Stark. He had a feeling that the man was going to do something stupid when it came to Banner. Beyond a safety issue, it was also just damn rude of Stark to have said and done the things he'd done so far.

A cry of pain snapped Steve out of his thoughts and had him rushing into the lab, shouting, "Hey!"

"Nothing?" Stark asked, looking at Banner curiously.

"Are you nuts?" Steve asked, bracing himself for a fight.

"Jury's out," Stark joked before focusing on Banner again. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz, bongo drums, huge bag of weed?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" Steve demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Funny things are," Stark replied, pointing a slender piece of metal toward him.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny," Steve pointed out, hating that he even had to say those words to a grown man. He then glanced over at Banner, "No offense, Doc."

"It's all right, I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things," Banner tried to reassure him.

"You're tip-toeing, big man. You need to _ strut_," Stark insisted.

"And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," Steve snapped, losing his patience.

"Do you think I'm _ not _?" Stark retorted. "Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"You think Fury's hiding something?" Steve asked, not really wanting to admit that Stark had a point in all this.

"He's a spy. Captain, he's _ the _ spy. His secrets have secrets," Stark insisted before popping a handful of blueberries into his mouth. "It's bugging him too, isn't it?" Stark said more than asked, pointing over toward Banner.

"Uh," Banner began, glancing up from his equipment. "I just want to finish my work here, and…"

"Doctor?" Steve interrupted, curious for the man's opinion.

Banner paused, looking around like he was trying to find the words to say before he took off his glasses and explained, "'A warm light for all mankind.' Loki's jab at Fury about the cube."

"I heard it," Steve admitted.

"Well, I think that was meant for you," Banner nodded toward Stark. Stark offered Banner his bag of blueberries and Banner took some before continuing, "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark tower?" Steve questioned before playing dumb as he said, "That big, ugly…" Upon Stark's unimpressed look, Steve pretended it was a snafu as he finished, "building in New York?" He knew exactly what the Stark tower was. He knew exactly what Tony's project was. Even if he hadn't seen advertisements for it or heard people talk about it on the street, there was the fact that he'd seen it in person.

"It's powered by an arc reactor, a self-sustaining energy source," Banner explained, but Steve already knew that. He knew about the arc reactor. He even knew Stark had one inside his own chest. "That building will run itself for, what, a year?"

"It's just the prototype," Stark said, almost dismissively. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now. That's what he's getting at."

"So…why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the tesseract project?" Banner asked reasonably. "What are they doing in the energy business in the first place?"

Steve almost conceded, almost admitted he agreed with them since he _ had _ been wondering what a spy organization was doing trying to make renewable energy. It had been a thought in the back of his mind and Banner was making good points. He was about to say as such when Stark announced, "I should probably look into that once my decryption program finishes breaking into SHIELD's secure files."

"I'm sorry, did you just say…" Steve began, his anger rising.

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge," Stark admitted, looking thoroughly unrepentant. "In a few hours, I'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide. Blueberry?"

"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around," Steve scoffed.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome," Stark said.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up," Steve deflected. "This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them."

"Following's not really my style," Stark said, popping more blueberries into his mouth.

"You're all about style, aren't you?" Steve mocked.

Stark tilted his head, "Of the people in this room, which is a.) wearing a spangly outfit, and b.) not of use."

"Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you," Banner interrupted.

Steve glanced between the two men, his mind a jumble of thoughts as he snapped, "Just find the cube."

Leaving the room, Steve had to force himself to take deep breaths as the whole conversation seemed to haunt him. He replayed it in his mind as he headed down the hallway. The whole thing felt wrong and the more he thought about Peggy and Howard's organization being used to do something shady, the worse he felt. And beyond that, he knew Stark was right about this. He didn't want the man to be right though. He wanted Stark to be wrong about everything, to be wrong about SHIELD and to be wrong about him.

_ Wanna prove you're not useless? Then go do something useful, soldier boy. _

Steve took a deep breath and then glanced down a hallway before beginning to search. Stark could rely on his tech all he wanted to, but Steve was going to get to the bottom of what was going on. One way or another, he was going to figure out who was wrong. He was going to figure out who was using him. Luckily for him, people seemed to buy an 'aw, shucks' routine and he managed to get by most agents easily, making him wonder if he should just double down on the idea of him being just some clueless old man. Once he found the secure storage room, Steve made sure the coast was clear before prying the door open.

Once he was inside, he looked around before carefully leaping up onto a walkway. Some of the boxes he opened were just regular tech, things he'd expect from an organization like SHIELD. And then he phone boxes marked _ Phase 2. _ He opened one and it was like he'd been slapped. He opened another and then another and every inch of him thrummed with white hot rage.

Weapons.

SHIELD had been using the tesseract to make weapons, and not just any weapons either. They were pulling pages out of Hydra's playbook. These were the very weapons that had _ ruined his life _, and here they were, resurrected right alongside him. A price on his very soul. Taking one of the weapons, a near identical replica of what was used to kill Bucky, Steve stalked down the hallway. People moved out of his way without him having to make a single sound. Storming into the lab where Fury was talking to Banner and Stark, Steve trembled as Tony asked, "What's Phase 2?"

Slamming the weapon down on the table and getting everyone's attention, Steve snapped, "Phase 2 is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons." Glancing over at Stark, Steve said, "Sorry, computer was moving a little slow for me."

Stark looked more than a little stunned, but Fury shook his head, "Rogers, we gathered everything related to the tesseract. This does not mean we're making…"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Stark interrupted, turning the screen around to reveal blueprints of weapons. "What were you lying?"

"I was wrong, Director," Steve said, hands on his belt as Natasha and Thor came in, "The world hasn't changed a bit."

"Did you know about this?" Banner demanded, looking to Natasha.

"You want to think about removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?" Natasha replied.

Banner laughed bitterly, "I was in _ Calcutta_. I was pretty well removed."

"Loki is manipulating you," Natasha stressed.

"And you've been doing what exactly?" Banner said, backing up.

Natasha looked like she was close to rolling her eyes as she replied, "You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy," Banner said, moving over to the screen and pointing at it. "I want to know why SHIELD is using the tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

"Because of him," Fury said, pointing over at Thor.

Thor looked baffled, "Me?"

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet."

"But you're not the only people out there, are you?" Fury demanded. "_ And _ you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, that can't be controlled."

"Like you controlled the cube?" Steve said, knowing he was edging toward being condescending but didn't care.

"Your work with the tesseract drew Loki to it, and his allies," Thor insisted. "It is a signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a higher form of war."

"A higher form?" Steve asked incredulously.

Fury shook his head, "You forced our hand. We had to come up with something."

"A nuclear deterrent. Because that always calms everything right down," Stark said mockingly.

"Remind me again how you made your fortune again, Stark," Fury said incredulously.

Steve stepped forward, "I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck-deep in--"

"Wait, hold on," Stark interrupted. "How is this now about me?"

"I'm sorry, isn't everything?" Steve mocked.

"I thought humans were more evolved than this," Thor scoffed.

"_Excuse me_, did we come up to your planet and blow _ your _ stuff up?" Fury demanded, turning toward Thor.

Steve's rage felt like fire spreading through his veins. A memory of the serum coursing through his body for the very first time flashed through his mind. It was that kind of just intensity and he felt like there was a buzzing in his ears as Thor snapped, "You treat your champions with such mistrust!"

"Are you boys really that naïve? SHIELD _ monitors _ potential threats," Natasha insisted.

"Captain America's on threat watch?" Banner scoffed.

"We _ all are_," Natasha bit out.

"Doesn't seem like boy scout here has what it takes to be on threat watch," Stark snapped. "Or what? You going to try to claim you're the _ man with a plan _ again? Maybe rely on another Stark to get anything done. That worked for you in the past, didn't it?"

"Stark, so help me God, if you make one more wisecrack…" Steve threatened, moving closer.

"Threat!" Stark shouted, pointing at him. "Verbal threat. I feel threatened."

"Show some respect," Steve insisted.

"Respect what?" Stark retorted.

"The people in this room, for starters!" Steve snapped. "Or anyone for that matter! Something you seem incapable of doing!"

"No, what you want is obedience. After all, you were the one who said 'we have orders, follow them'. And then what, you suddenly take it upon yourself to find the weapons, against orders, like a hypocrite?" Stark scoffed.

"You were the one who said I wasn't useful," Steve snapped.

"And I was right. Would have found that information without you, _ Captain_," Stark sneered.

Steve glared and was about to retort, but then glanced over as the noise seemed to quiet down and Thor taunted, "You speak of control, yet you court chaos."

"That's his M.O., isn't it?" Banner said. Focusing on Banner, Steve frowned as the man continued. "I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no, we're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're a time bomb."

"You need to step away," Fury insisted.

"Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?" Stark scoffed, putting a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Smacking Stark's hand away, Steve glared, "You know damn well why. Back off!"

"I'm starting to want you to make me."

Steve sneered, moving closer, circling to the other side of him, "Oh yeah. Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?"

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist," Stark recited, like he'd practiced that line or something.

"I know guys with _ none of that _ worth _ ten of you_," Steve sneered, the Howling Commandos flashing in his mind. Bucky. Vivian. "I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I would just cut the wire."

Steve scoffed and glanced over toward Banner for a moment before he mockingly said, "Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

"A hero? Like you?" Stark asked, disbelief evident in every syllable as he moved closer. "You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything _ special _ about you came out of a _ bottle_."

"Put on the suit. Let's go a few rounds," Steve snapped.

Thor laughed, "You people are so _ petty _ and _ tiny_."

"Yeah, _ this _ is the team," Banner scoffed.

Steve glanced over at Fury as the director sighed, "Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his--"

"Where? You rented my room," Banner snapped.

"The cell was just in case--" Fury tried to explain.

"In case you needed to _ kill me _ . But you can't. I know, I tried," Banner said, becoming increasingly agitated. Steve felt his stomach drop to the floor and he shoved thoughts of the plane aside, forcing himself to focus on the then, the now, the room around him and Banner as he spoke. "I got low. I didn't see an end. So, I put a bullet in my mouth, and the other guy spit it out. So, I moved on. I focused on helping other people. _ I was good_."

Steve's eyes widened as he saw the moment Banner reached out and took the scepter, not even seeming to notice it as the man continued speaking. "Until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk. You want to know my _ secret_, Agent Romanoff? You want to know how I stay calm?"

Fury and Romanoff both reached for their weapons, but Steve knew that would only end badly. That show of force would just be a threat that could set Banner off. Instead, in the calmest voice he could muster, Steve said, "Dr. Banner, put down the scepter."

Steve realized he'd been right the second Banner looked at the scepter, mystified, and it was clear that was the first moment he even realized he'd had the thing in his hand. The computer then beeped loudly, the shrill sound breaking through the tension to show that the energy signature had been found. Banner set down the scepter onto the table and walked toward the computer. "Sorry kids, you don't get to see my party trick after all."

"You located the tesseract?" Thor asked, following Banner.

"I could get there fastest," Stark volunteered.

Thor immediately glared, "The tesseract belongs on Asgard. No human is a match for it."

Grabbing Stark's arm as the man tried to leave, Steve insisted, "You're not going alone."

Stark slapped his hand away and scoffed, "You're gonna stop me?"

"Put on the suit, let's find out," Steve retorted.

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man," Stark jeered.

"_Put on the suit_," Steve bit out.

"Oh my God," Banner said quietly as he stared at the computer. Glancing over at the man, Steve was about to ask what was wrong when the room just _ exploded_. Steve was sent flying and hit the ground next to Stark. His head swam, but he shook his head and forced himself to focus. He didn't have time to just rest. He needed to keep moving. Pushing himself up, he glanced over at the man and nodded frantically, "Put on the suit!"

"Yeah!" Stark replied, looking more than a little shell shocked as he scrambled to get up. Steve took him by the arm and helped him up, the two running down the corridor. Steve's ears were ringing from the explosion, but within a few moments, it was beginning to clear up. The PA above blared for everyone to go to their stations and an alarm shrilled below that.

"External detonation. Number three engine is down," Hill reported over the ear piece.

Sharing a glance with Stark, the two moved faster and after a few moments, Hill announced, "Somebody's got to get outside and patch that engine."

"Stark, you copy that?" Fury asked.

"I'm on it," Stark replied. They didn't stop running until they reached an intersection and Stark instructed, "Engine three. I'll meet you there."

Steve nodded and just ran toward that area, gritting his teeth as people jumped out of the way, some crying out in shock as they did so. When he got to the door connected to engine three, he had to pry it open. Steve moved aside as injured men were carried out. He hadn't gotten more than a few feet though before there was just…nothing. A whole chunk of the ship had just been blown off.

"Stark!" Steve screamed, the whistling wind muffling his voice. "Stark, I'm here!"

"Good," Stark replied, flying over. "Let's see what we got." He began pulling at some items on the ship before he instructed, "I need you to get to that engine control panel and tell me which relays are in overload position."

Nodding, Steve leaped up and grabbed onto an exposed bar, propelling himself forward and over to the engine panel Stark had spoken of. Pulling it out, Steve wanted to groan as he saw a whole mess of wires connected to some sort of motherboard.

"What does it look like in there?"

Half the damn board was lit up and Steve sighed before joking, "It seems to run on some sort of electricity."

"Well, you're not wrong," Stark replied.

"Honestly half this board is flashing," Steve said. He then rattled off the parts as well as he could. For a minute Stark didn't reply, and then Steve found himself following a slew of rapid instructions, some of which seemed to overlap. He went as quickly as he could without electrocuting himself in the process. Once he was done, Steve announced, "Okay, the relays are intact. What's our next move?"

"Even if I clear the rotors, this thing won't re-engage without a jump. I'm going to have to get in there and push."

"If that thing gets up to speed, you'll get shredded," Steve replied, actually starting to really worry about Stark.

"That stator control unit can reverse the polarity long enough to disengage maglev and that could--"

"Speak English!" Steve interrupted.

"You see that red lever?" Stark sighed. Steve glanced over and spotted it, preparing to jump over. "It'll slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out. Stand by it. Wait for my word."

Steve jumped over to the other side, prepared to stand by the lever until he was asked to pull it. He could vaguely hear something going off in the PA from inside, but not quite what was being said. Unfortunately, his mind pieced the message together as armed SHIELD agents came out, their weapons drawn on _ him_. It was pretty clear just from their demeanor that those definitely weren't SHIELD agents.

One hostile tossed a grenade toward the engine after pulling the pin and Steve jumped back over, knocking it down into open air, causing it to explode harmlessly below. Leaping back over, Steve dropped down and knocked the man out and then immediately kicked the next hostile back. A third came after him and Steve used their own momentum to toss them off the helicarrier entirely.

Bullets hit the ground near him and Steve grabbed one of the blades from one of the men and tossed it forward, lodging it into the wall near a hostile who just barely dodged. Jumping up onto the bridge connected to the area he was _ supposed _ to be waiting, Steve ducked down as bullets hit just above his head. Grabbing a gun from the walkway, Steve opened fire on them, sending them running for cover as he slowly backed up toward the lever again. Steve thought for a moment that he would have a breather and be able to just _ wait _ when the ship began to _ tilt _ and _ sink _ toward the Earth.

"Sir, we've lost all power to engine one," a voice over his earpiece said.

"It's Barton. He took out our systems. He's headed for the detention level. Does anybody copy?" Fury asked.

"This is Agent Romanoff. I copy."

The hostile from before stepped out and Steve began firing again, but as the ship tilted more, Steve slid back and off the ship before he could get his footing. Steve managed to grab a cord before he dropped completely and for a delirious moment the only thing he could do was just hold on. And then he realized what this felt like. This sinking, aching feeling. Being so close to the safety of a ship that had a side blown out. Nausea swept through him.

_ Was this what Bucky felt? Was this what Steve had let happen to him? _

For a moment, Steve thought about just letting go. After all, it was what he deserved. Poetic justice for his failure. Maybe this time his death would even stick. Maybe he'd finally be able to be with Bucky and Vivian this time.

"Cap, hit the lever."

Steve was startled out of his thoughts and he gasped, his heart thudding in his chest as he began pulling himself up. Stark. He needed to help Stark. That man was trying his best to save the ship and he didn't deserve to die doing it. Starting to scramble up the cord as fast as he could, Steve retorted, "I need a minute here!"

"Lever now!"

Steve clung to the metal framing pulling himself up and glaring over at the hostile who was shooting at him. Luckily the man couldn't seem to aim worth a damn, especially not with the high winds coming at them.

"Help!"

Reaching up, Steve pulled the lever and then began pushing himself up off the grate. The man opened fire on him, but before anything could hit him, Steve smiled as Stark flew at the man, knocking him back into the ship. Steve sighed with relief, leaning against the ship to take a breather. After he caught his breath, Steve stood up, freezing at what he heard next.

"Agent Coulson is down," Fury announced over the earpiece.

"A medical team is on its way to your location," an agent replied.

"They're here. They called it."

For a moment Steve just stood there. No matter how many times he lost a soldier, it never got easier. That loss, that feeling that maybe if he'd just done something else they'd still be there, just never went away. It never stopped happening. He wondered how it had happened. He wondered when it had happened. Was it when he'd been dangling off the ship, contemplating giving up?

Steve shook his head. He couldn't focus on that. It wasn't helpful. Moving inside, Steve peeled off the top of his uniform and then moved back to the conference area. He still felt a little numb and Stark looked just absolutely stunned as he came out, his Iron Man suit put back. Coulson had seemed like a good man, and it'd been clear Stark had known him from the way he talked to him. He didn't look like he was wanting to talk, so Steve just sat there with them, both of them staring blankly at the table until Fury joined them, and he was holding those damn playing cards.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket. I guess he never did get you to sign them."

Fury threw the cards onto the table and they were spotted and stained with blood. Images of him in various ways. One a photo of him smiling and saluting. One a cartoon. The faces were now warped with blood. Reaching out, Steve carefully lifted one up, his chest aching as Fury said, "We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, the location of the cube, Banner, Thor…I got nothing for you._ I lost my one good eye_. Maybe I had that coming."

As Steve looked at the cards though, he knew he was getting manipulated. Coulson had been proud of these cards, proud of how they were in near mint condition. Proud enough where other people could quote parts of what he said about them which meant he'd told multiple people about these cards. That wasn't a man who would have kept the cards in his pocket instead of somewhere more secure like a safe or at the very least a locker. Beyond that, he would have just pulled them out earlier that day if he'd had them on him the entire time. No, Fury had put blood on them, and it probably was Phil's. Steve wondered how Fury did it, if he'd just tossed the cards onto the blood or if he'd dipped something into the blood and then splattered it onto them.

"Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the tesseract," Fury began to explain. "I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier. There was an idea, Stark knows this, called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes."

Steve glanced over as Stark got up and then left the room. Steve glanced over at Fury, understanding the message he was trying to say, but then felt a well of rage building in him as Fury continued. "Well, it's an old-fashioned notion."

Getting up, Steve followed after Stark. He agreed with part of what Fury said, but he just couldn't take being manipulated that obviously for much longer. For a moment Steve wasn't sure where Stark had gone, but he asked someone where Coulson had died. Heading to the room where the cell had been, Steve winced at the bloodstains on the floor before he focused on Stark. Leaning against a railing, Steve folded his arms across his chest and asked, "Was he married?"

"No," Stark replied quickly. "There was a…cellist, I think."

"I'm sorry," Steve said honestly. "He seemed like a good man."

"He was an idiot," Stark retorted.

"Why? For believing?" Steve prodded.

"For taking on Loki alone." Stark backed up as he spoke, moving away from that empty space the cell had been before he moved over toward him.

"He was doing his job," Steve said gently.

Stark scoffed, "He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have…"

Steve moved forward, frowning, "Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right, I've heard that before," he snapped.

Glancing over as Stark moved past him, Steve asked, "Is this the first time you lost a soldier?"

Stark whirled around, a wild look in his glassy eyes as he snarled, "_We are not soldiers_." He blinked a few times and then pulled back, seeming to force himself to calm down as he continued, calmer this time, "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

"Neither am I," Steve said simply. "He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does, but right now we've got to put that behind us and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source. If we can put together a list--"

Stark had been staring at the bloodstain before he interrupted, "He made it personal."

"That's not the point," Steve sighed, trying to redirect Stark to focus on the task at hand.

Stark shook his head, "That is the point. _ That's _ Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart," Steve replied, frowning.

"Yeah, divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? _ That's _what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."

Steve nodded, beginning to understand where Stark was going with this, "Right. I caught his act in Stuttgart."

"Yeah, that was just previews. This is opening night," Stark said, pacing. "Loki, he's a full-tilt diva, right? He wants flowers, he wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered…"

Steve arched his eyebrows and stared pointedly at Stark, not quite wanting to point out that the man had accidentally called himself a 'full-tilt diva' as Stark's eyes widened and he whispered, "Son of a bitch."

Nodding at Stark, Steve went and put his suit back on before going to the room that Natasha was in. Opening the door, he nodded to her and insisted, "Time to go."

Natasha frowned, "Go where?"

"I'll tell you on the way," Steve insisted. "Can you fly one of those jets?"

The door to the bathroom in that room opened and the man Steve recognized from the files as Barton stepped through. The blond was tall, lanky, and had more than a few bandages on his arms and one on his cheek. Steve could also see a barely visible hearing aid in one of his ears. He nodded and announced, "I can."

Glancing over at Natasha, Steve saw her nod. Steve then glanced back over at Barton and asked, "You got a suit?"

"Yeah," Barton said with a small smile.

"Then suit up," Steve insisted, heading away. He trusted that Natasha knew what she was doing and he hoped that trust wouldn't backfire on him. He pulled on his cowl, put on his helmet, and grabbed his shield. By the time he was in the hanger, Barton and Romanoff were flanking him, both in full gear. Barton had a quiver full of high tech looking arrows on his back, a bow in one hand, and he was chugging a large cup of coffee.

Getting onto a quinjet with them as Barton tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash, Steve saw the agent on board's eyes widen as he stammered, "Hey, you guys aren't authorized to be in here."

"Son, just don't," Steve sighed.

The agent scrambled off the jet after Barton motioned for him to do so. Barton and Romanoff then got into the pilot and co-pilot seats. Holding onto a piece near the cockpit, Steve stared ahead as Barton asked, "So where to, Captain?"

"New York."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing Steve's thoughts for this section of the movie especially since there's a lot going on dialogue wise that I wanted to unpack. Although the part that took me the longest to write was that goddamn argument between all those characters in front of that stupid scepter. A chunk of the dialogue is just made up from whole cloth 'cause it's impossible to tell what Steve and Tony are arguing about past a certain point. Or anyone else. Hopefully it all worked?
> 
> Next chapter is Viv's point of view, y'all.


	9. Nine: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence, blood, injuries, lots of killing but it's the Chitauri that are dying so I don't know if anyone cares
> 
> If I've missed any warnings, please let me know and I'll add them immediately.

"Get up, you have a mission."

Glancing up, Vivian frowned as Pierce entered the room. He looked more afraid than she'd seen him in ages. Eyebrows raising up toward her hairline, Vivian grinned before she taunted, "And what did you guys manage to fuck up this time?"

"It wasn't us. It was SHIELD," Pierce bit out.

"And yet SHIELD and Hydra are one and the same. _ You _ made sure of that," Vivian retorted. "So what happened? You seem like you're in kind of a hurry so you get to decide if you have the time for games."

Pierce glared, his jaw twitching. After they stared at each other for a few seconds, Pierce finally sighed and confessed, "Nick Fury has been looking for a way to elevate the weapons within this organization for some time now and the tesseract was the most obvious solution. We had hoped that it would do something…a little bit more for us. A massive explosion. An ecological disaster of some sort that could be used to escalate the situation. That didn't happen. The explosion _ that did happen _only affected a SHIELD facility, but everyone got out alive."

"I'm so sorry your plan to slaughter people and wreck huge sections of nature didn’t go how you wanted. That must be a real bummer," Vivian said drily. "I still don't see how this pertains to me in any way."

"The tesseract instead opened a door to somewhere else in the universe," Pierce said, continuing on as if he hadn't heard her. "The Asgardian Loki came through with a scepter of some kind and…took the cube as well as a few agents."

Vivian sat up straight, her eyes widening as she laughed, "Wait a second. You're telling me that the all powerful cosmic cube that Schmidt had was stolen from you by _ the God of mischief_? You _ lost the most powerful item on this planet _ to a guy who once got impregnated _ by a horse_."

Pierce glared, snarling, "That man is threatening the planet with_ an alien army _ ! And that _ fool Fury _ wants to use this as chance for his goddamn pet project to get exposure."

"The Avengers," Vivian sighed.

"Yes. He recruited Banner, but he fell out of the helicarrier after an altercation, so his current location is unknown. The Asgardian Thor fell out around that time as well. His location is also unknown. Our sources inside the helicarrier say that Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and…Steve Rogers are all on their way to fight Loki," Pierce announced, sounding more pleased with himself as he went.

Vivian felt like the world had suddenly stopped spinning. She closed her eyes for a moment before glancing up at Pierce. A few moments passed before she bit out, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to make sure they win," Pierce said, his voice mocking. "I want you to help them defeat the invading alien army that's going to invade Manhattan."

"How do you know that?" Vivian demanded.

Pierce shrugged, "We've been monitoring Stark Tower for some time and noticed Erik Selvig, one of the people taken by Loki, building a contraption on the roof."

Vivian grit her teeth, "And you didn't stop him, because you're fine with the invasion happening. What's the catch? There's always a catch with you. Hell, what's the goal here?" Vivian snapped. "You wouldn't just let an army invade only to have me go and protect the city for the hell of it."

"The catch is that, as usual, you're not allowed to interact with any of the previously mentioned people. Not a single word. You keep your head down, make sure you aren't spotted by some…more thrill seeking journalists, and you make sure the aliens don't take over. If during your efforts you also can manage to do as much property damage as you possibly can, that would be appreciated."

"You want me, and the aliens, to wreck a major metropolitan city?" Vivian frowned.

"I want you to create chaos that still leads to humans being the victors," Pierce corrected. "Your job will be to terrify and save humans in equal measure."

"Fine," Vivian snapped. "I'll do it."

"Good," Pierce announced. "We have a nano mask for you to wear while in the city, and you'll be dressed as a civilian. You'll be assigned a firearm, but otherwise your objective is to retrieve a weapon from a hostile. You will also be given two ear pieces. One for our agents to communicate to you with. You will be able to respond on that channel. The other one will allow you to hear what the 'Avengers' are saying. It is a one way receiver. You can hear them, they can't hear you. This is strictly so we can monitor their movements throughout their fight as well as keep you from inadvertently running into them. Understood?"

"Yes."

Standing up, Vivian accepted a bundle as it was handed to her and then headed into the bathroom. She quickly put her hair up into a ponytail before applying the mask and grimacing. She always hated wearing those stupid masks. They made her feel like she was staring through at some other person instead of looking into a mirror. The ear pieces were also things she didn't like to wear, especially not one in each ear, but she would have to make do.

Shrugging off her clothing, she was glad she'd showered earlier that day before she got dressed. The outfit itself was going to provide just absolutely no protection in the field and she knew it was designed that way. Striped leggings, black running shoes, and black t-shirt. The whole outfit was designed for speed and flexibility. They frankly didn't give a damn if she got injured.

Shaking her head, Vivian came back out into the room where Pierce was waiting, nodding as he announced, "You'll be escorted there by a few double agents. Agent Tanner is already making his way toward the site, but you'll be accompanied by Agent Rumlow and Agent Rollins as well as the teams they're leading."

"Are they dressed as civilians as well?" Vivian asked curiously.

Pierce smirked at her and then led her out into the hallway. There stood two men. They looked to be in their thirties and had some scruff. Both were brunets and they both leered at her. They were both wearing _ SHIELD _uniforms.

"Ah, I see. They're friendlies that just happened to be in the area and swooped in like big damn heroes," Vivian said mockingly.

"I'm Rumlow, and this is Rollins," Rumlow said, continuing to leer.

Rolling her eyes, Vivian moved up to them and snapped, "Yeah, we don't have time for this. How are we getting to the city?"

"Follow us," Rollins instructed.

Following after them, Vivian wanted to sigh as more agents of SHIELD joined them, moving in a formation around her. She knew for a fact that the formation was supposed to make her feel trapped, but she also knew her own abilities. She knew she could get away if she wanted to. Unfortunately, Bucky was still in cryo and she'd just been given the order to _ protect _ instead of kill. It was an order she found herself genuinely wanting to follow.

She frowned as she found herself in an area with multiple elevators. The team split up and went in groups. Getting in, Vivian stared at the walls and kept silent as Rumlow opened a panel in the wall and use a key of some sort to get the elevator going up. She was nervous, but stared in shock when after they left the elevators, they entered a main lobby and she saw that they were _ already in Manhattan_.

"What?" Vivian whispered.

"Oh right," Rumlow mocked, grabbing her by the arm, pulling her close to him. "You didn't even know where you were. That's right. You've been _ twelve miles _ away from Rogers this whole time."

Grabbing Rumlow's arm and twisting it behind his back until he groaned, Vivian glared at him before snarling, "Shut the fuck up and start moving. We need to get to Stark Tower before that army shows up."

"Actually, _ you _ get to start heading there. Since you're disguised as a civilian, you get to be all on your lonesome to start out. We can't join you until after the fighting starts," Rollins snapped.

Vivian looked at them and then laughed, "You want to make sure no one knows you knew about the attack location before you were supposed to."

"Not just a hot piece of ass then," Rumlow sneered.

Kicking his leg out from under him, Vivian shoved him to the ground and stepped _ hard _ on his back before snarling, "Stay out of my goddamn way or I'll make sure you won't live long enough to regret it."

Shoving away as Rumlow winced, Vivian headed out of the building and onto the sidewalk. No one paid attention to her and she began quickly moving toward Stark Tower. The building rose above the skyline, an easy monument to follow. As she was on her way there, a blue beam of light shot up into the sky and a hole opened. Taking off into a run, Vivian screamed, "Everyone find cover! Go! Now!"

People scoffed at her, but began screaming and running as they saw _ aliens _ flying down. Blasts were shot at cars, blowing them up and Vivian twisted to dodge them. Holding back cars with her powers as people ran, Vivian nodded to a man as he grabbed a child and then took off.

"Find somewhere secure! The streets aren't safe!"

Blocking debris from hitting civilians, Vivian then tossed it back at the aliens, knocking a few of their crafts out of the air as cops began showing up. One got out of his car and pulled his gun on her and she shouted, "Are you fucking kidding me? There are aliens invading our planet and you're aiming your gun at _ me_? Get your shit together!"

The officer nodded and Vivian took off again, running past crashed cars and chunks of building as she saw Iron Man flying by.

"Stark, we're on your three heading Northwest."

Vivian almost stumbled as she heard Natasha's voice for the first time in years, breathing heavily and forcing herself to focus as Stark retorted, "What, did you stop for drive-through? Swing up Park. I'm going to lay them out for you."

Turning and heading down a street, Vivian winced as she followed the quinjet only to see it begin to crash. Chasing after it, she held back as it landed hard. For a moment she was terrified, but then she saw the three occupants run out. It was only then that she saw the outfit Steve was in and groaned. Steve barely had more protection on than she did. Before she could focus too much on that, there was a low growl that echoed amongst the streets.

"Hecate, we're headed your way."

Staring up at the hole in the sky, Vivian felt like she was losing her mind as a huge monstrous beast flew out. It was the size of a building. Putting a finger to her ear, Vivian replied, "Yeah. Great. I really hope you brought firepower, because we're going to need it."

The creature dipped down, close enough where Vivian could almost touch it, and then it flew past. From within it, troops began rappelling out and Vivian grit her teeth before going to work. Racing up into one of the buildings they went into, Vivian opened fire, nailing one of them in the head as it went to attack an office worker. She emptied the entire clip into it.

"Stark, are you seeing this?" Steve asked, the sound nearly bowling Vivian over.

Swaying on her feet, Vivian grabbed the weapon from the dead enemy and snapped to the workers, "Evacuate the building. Now."

The workers nodded, rushing out as she overheard Tony say, "Seeing, still working on believing."

"Same old Stark," Vivian muttered and headed to the now shattered window the alien had jumped through. Aiming the weapon through the opening, she fired, taking out a few aliens flying by.

"Where's Banner? He shown up yet?" Stark demanded.

"Banner?" Steve replied, sounding like he was shocked Tony would even ask.

"Just keep me posted," Tony replied.

Stepping out of the window, she then propelled herself forward, landing hard on the backs of one of the vehicles the aliens were flying and grinned as they turned. They screamed something at her in an alien language and she snapped the neck of the first one, tossing it off. Firing the gun at the back of the other, she then tossed him as well. For a moment the craft plummeted until she worked out the controls. Shooting back up into the sky, she did her best to keep an eye on the enemy, but then she spotted Steve _ leap onto a car just before it exploded_.

"God fucking damn it, you reckless fucking idiot," Vivian snarled, moving forward until an alien hit the craft she was on. Flipping off it, Vivian landed hard, rolling along a roof before she shook her head and then got up. Jumping up along the edge of the roof, Vivian ran along it before gritting her teeth as she realized there wasn't really a good way to drop down onto one of those crafts again.

"I'm such a hypocrite," Vivian muttered, swinging the alien weapon onto her back before she shook out her hands and stepped off the building.

The drop was sharp, sudden, and intense before she held out her hands, slowing her descent and then landing hard on the sidewalk. Running forward immediately, Vivian pulled the alien gun off her back and took shots, hitting aliens as they tried to fire at Steve. Civilians ran past her, but then Vivian veered off as she saw a family cowering under a car. Crouching next to them, she held out her hand, "C'mon, you can't stay there. It's not safe."

"But those things--" the man choked out. "How do we get past them?"

"Leave that to me. We need to get you somewhere secure. Basements or a subway. Treat this like an Earthquake." The family still looked wary so Vivian held her hand out further and begged, "Please, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, but you have to trust me. If you stay here, you're going to die."

The dad nodded and lifted up his daughter. Helping the mother out, Vivian had them stand behind her as she fired at the aliens. She took them out and carefully backed the family back into a building. Once the family got inside, she then headed across the street and did the same with another family.

Running along, Vivian then glanced over and froze as she saw Andrew Tanner pressed up against a building, staring up at the sky in horror. Sighing and moving over to his side, she glared, "What are you doing? You're supposed to be fighting."

"They're aliens," Tanner choked out.

Vivian stared blandly at him, "Truly, your dazzling intellect has got to be the reason you were chosen to watch over our nation's greatest treasure."

Holding out the weapon and firing as an alien moved past, Vivian didn't even look as it crumpled to the ground. Tanner, meanwhile, went a pale shade of green as he whispered, "Rumlow…Rumlow gave me explosives. Told me to take them out. I just…I don't…"

"Oh god, I truly do not have the time to help you grow an entire spine, so hand over the explosives. I'll take care of it. You go shit yourself somewhere out of the way for all I care."

Tanner immediately shrugged off the backpack and nearly dropped it, his hands were shaking so badly. Snatching it from him before he could do that, Vivian smirked as she saw the bag had C4 in it. Shrugging it on, she then sighed, "At least you're good for something."

Running off as Tanner slid to the ground, Vivian stared up in the sky as lightning erupted from it and _ Thor _landed hard near Steve, Natasha, and Barton. Frowning over at them, Vivian then smirked as the sky itself started getting dark.

"Looks like the X-Men finally decided to show up," Tony snapped bitterly.

Vivian grinned and killed an alien, taking its staff and twirling it. Ditching the gun, she then aimed and hit a few more aliens as Steve asked, "What's the story upstairs?"

"The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable," Thor explained.

"Thor's right. We got to deal with these guys," Tony added.

"How do we do this?" Natasha asked.

Vivian snapped the neck of an alien as Steve replied, "As a team."

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor insisted.

"Yeah? Get in line." Clint retorted.

"Save it," Steve interrupted and Vivian would have kissed him if she could. She knew she couldn't though and focused on killing any aliens that headed their way as Steve continued. "Loki's going to keep this fight focused on us, and that's what we need. Without him, these things could run wild. We got Stark up top. He's going to need us to…"

Vivian ducked out of view as Banner arrived on a motorcycle. After he parked, he got off and announced, "So, this all seems horrible."

"I've seen worse," Natasha replied easily.

"Sorry," Banner apologized, and seemed to really mean it, although Vivian wasn't exactly sure why he was apologizing. She had a strong guess though.

"No, we could use a little worse," Natasha said with a small smile.

"Stark, we got him," Steve reported.

"Banner?" Tony asked.

"Just like you said," Steve replied.

"Then tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you," Tony retorted, and Vivian wanted to groan. He was bringing _ that thing _ to them?

Seconds after she thought that, Tony appeared, flying toward them and close behind him was the monstrous creature.

"I don't see how that's a party," Natasha gaped.

Bruce glanced at the group and then started walking toward the approaching abomination. Steve stepped forward and said, "Dr. Banner. Now might be a really good time for you to get angry."

"That's my secret, Captain," Bruce said, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm always angry."

"Join the fucking club," Vivian muttered and then her eyes widened as she watched him transform, bursting out of his clothing. She'd seen _ footage _ of him transforming into the Hulk, but it was a very different thing to see it in person. The Hulk punched into the creature's face and it stopped dead in its tracks, crumpling and its body tilted up and over.

"Hold on!" Stark announced before shooting a missile square at its back.

The thing exploded, hunks of it shooting all over the place and Vivian directed them as best as she could away from civilians and buildings, despite her earlier instructions. The aliens around them _ screamed _ and Vivian grinned, running forward and using the staff. Knocking a few off of buildings with her powers, she then shot them in midair, watching as they landed hard on the ground.

Before she could be too excited though, more monstrosities flew out from the portal as well as _ dozens _ of individual aliens. As they moved away from the portal, lightning struck them from the clouds, but it wasn't enough.

"Guys," Natasha warned.

"Call it, Captain," Tony instructed.

"All right, listen up. Until we close the portal, our priority is containment. Barton, I want you on that roof. Eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash."

"Can you give me a lift?" Barton asked.

"Right," Tony replied. "Better clench up, Legolas."

Vivian rolled her eyes on that, but kept moving, leaping up and clinging onto windowsill of a building before she then began moving up as Steve continued, "Thor, you got to try to work with that mutant up there to bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You both got the lightning, light those bastards up. You and me, we stay here on the ground. We keep the fighting here. And Hulk? Smash."

Vivian kicked off the building and then landed on a craft again. Killing both passengers, she tossed them to the ground before heading toward one of the monsters that had slipped past Storm and Thor as Barton called out, "Stark, you've got a lot of strays sniffing your tail."

"I'm just trying to keep them off the streets," Tony retorted.

"Well, they can't bank worth a damn, so find a tight corner," Barton advised.

"I will roger that," Tony said. Vivian grinned and kept that in mind as well, turning her craft at a sharp angle and cackling as some of the aliens that had been following her slammed straight into a building. Shaking her head, she then focused and headed toward one of the monsters. She flew straight toward it and got up onto the handles of her craft and flipped up onto its head. Running along its back, she shrugged off the backpack and placed the pieces of C4 along the spine, steadying herself as it tried to shake her off.

Backflipping off the creature and onto a nearby alien craft, Vivian then held out the staff and fired. The explosion itself sent the craft she was on slamming against a building. Her head cracked against the concrete, but she grabbed at the bricks as she gasped. Blood trickled from her scalp, but she shook her head and winced, pressing herself against the building as the windows around her shattered. Chunks of the monster slammed around her and then one hit her, sending her falling down to the street. Slowing down her descent, she still hit the street hard, her arm snapping out of socket.

Gasping and forcing herself up, she forced her arm back into the socket and rotated it, crying out in pain before she tried her best to shake it off. She didn't have time for that.

"Nice call. What else you got?" Stark asked.

"Thor is taking on a squadron down on Sixth," Barton replied easily.

"And he _ didn't invite me,_" Tony scoffed.

Vivian ran forward, pushing herself past the pain and then running up a car and leaping up into the air. Grabbing onto yet another craft, she flipped up onto it and knocked off the riders before glancing up as she saw Natasha flying past on her own. Flying after her, Vivian used the staff to keep aliens off her trail, watching as she headed straight for Stark Tower.

"Whatever you're doing, Natalia, I hope it works," Vivian muttered.

Vivian got Natasha as far as she could before she felt the craft began to crash. Riding it down until it was closer to the ground, Vivian dove out and began shooting from the ground, using the bladed part at points to cut the heads off some of the aliens. Adrenaline thrummed through her body and she gasped and stared up at the sky, watching as lightning went overhead from Storm and Thor. Down the street she could have sworn she saw Cyclops and Jean Grey.

"Captain, the bank on 42nd past Madison. They've cornered a lot of civilians in there," Barton instructed.

"I'm on it," Steve panted, and Vivian grit her teeth before immediately taking off toward the bank. Steve sounded near exhaustion. That wasn't good. The serum was enough to have him fighting for a long time. That meant he'd been pushing himself to the brink every step of the way. She got to the bank quickly and snuck inside, knowing that she needed to ignore all of her instincts in order to stay away from Steve. Killing the aliens guarding the door, Vivian began helping people out long before Steve shouted, "Everyone, clear out!"

Vivian was still helping people out of the building when a bomb exploded on the second floor. Leaping up and killing the surviving aliens with a few well placed blasts of the staff, Vivian then peered out from the window, a lump forming in her throat as she saw Steve on the roof of a car. The thing had crumpled from the impact and it took Steve a minute to push himself up. The movement looked painful. His cowl and helmet had been ripped off, leaving his head vulnerable, and for several minutes, he just stood and stared at the crowd.

"The council has made a decision."

"What decision was that?" Vivian hissed to Rumlow quietly.

"We're pulling out and you're staying in."

Moving back into the bank so that Steve wouldn't hear her, Vivian scoffed, "The council didn't decide that, Pierce did, so why is he making that call?"

"They've decided that the island of Manhattan is lost."

"That's insane," Vivian snarled. "We're still fighting. We can still win. What do they plan to do, nuke us?" After several moments of silence, Vivian laughed bitterly, "You fucking bastards. How long?"

"Fury is refusing to release the nuke."

"Good," Vivian scoffed. "At least someone in the government has a functioning brain."

"It's only a matter of time before they override him. Either succeed or we find out just how well you survive a nuclear blast."

"Next time I see you, I'm going to break both your arms," Vivian retorted.

Moving back out, Vivian saw that Steve had already left and she leapt from the building. Shaking her head, she threw herself back into the fighting, recklessly throwing herself at as many enemies as possible. A blade slice along her slide and she felt blood drip down her leg, but she kept moving, her blood splattering the ground around her as she stabbed and shot every alien she came across. As she cleared a section of street, she saw Barton rappel into a building.

"Tik tok. It's coming your way."

Vivian screamed and raced forward. She could see Tony shooting up into the air and knew he'd been notified.

"How long?" Vivian snarled.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds until detonation."

Vivian raced toward Steve, keeping her distance as she saw Thor help him up. There was a wound on his stomach and she headed to the side, adrenaline pushing her forward as she used her powers to practically catapult herself to the roof. Once she was there, she leaned heavily on a ledge and propped up her weapon, focusing on keeping the area around them clear.

"I can close it. Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down," Natasha announced.

Vivian closed her eyes, desperately wanting to let Natasha know that _ no, she shouldn't do that_, but she couldn't talk to them. She couldn't interact with them.

"Do it!" Steve insisted.

"No, wait," Tony interjected and Vivian nearly collapsed from relief.

"Stark, these things are still coming!" Steve insisted.

"I got a nuke coming in," Tony said. "It's gonna blow in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it."

"Stark, you know that's a one-way trip," Steve said, sounding nervous.

Vivian herself felt awful. After all she'd done to Stark, after all she'd put him through, and now he was going to die when it should have been her. But she knew that was crazy. There was no way for her to take that nuke up through the portal. Staring up at the sky, Vivian kept her hand tightly on her wound, hoping it would just _ heal already _ as she watched Tony lift the nuke up through the portal. And then both the nuke and Stark disappeared into the sky.

She kept time silently and knew the moment the nuke detonated. At that exact moment, all the aliens left on their world suddenly just _ stopped _. They collapsed and fell to the ground heavily, like toy soldiers whose strings had been cut. Holding out a hand, Vivian spit out blood and focused, gritting her teeth as she directed as many falling aliens as she could away from people, away from buildings.

_ Away from Steve_.

"Close it," Steve instructed.

Seconds later, the beam disappeared and the hole began to close up, but then Vivian gasped as she saw Tony fall back through the hole just before it closed.

"Son of a bitch," Steve said and she could hear his grin.

"He's not slowing down," Thor said, almost frantic.

Vivian looked up and before Thor could get off the ground, she saw a woman standing on a rooftop. Her hands were outstretched and Tony began to slow down, but he was still falling. Vivian assumed that Jean was trying to slow him down gently rather than abruptly and risk shattering something inside the man, but then the Hulk leapt forward and grabbed Stark out of midair. Vivian laughed as he hit a building, sliding down before landing hard on the ground. Stark had been protected the whole way down.

"Get back to headquarters. You know where it is," Rumlow snapped.

Vivian watched as the Tony was surrounded by Steve, Thor and the Hulk. Shaking her head, she replied, "I need a few minutes to recover. I got cut pretty badly during the fight. Blade went clean through and cut open my stomach."

"Tape yourself up and get here. You have thirty minutes."

Pulling the bag off of her back, the one that used to hold explosives, Vivian pulled a roll of duct tape out of it and lifted up her shirt. Shuddering as she could see through torn muscle and tissue, Vivian knew she'd have to use her powers just to stay upright to walk those blocks to get back in time. Hell, adrenaline and her powers were the only reasons she was still conscious. Peeling the tape up, Vivian took deep breaths and began wrapping her abdomen furiously. Luckily, at the same moment she _ screamed_, the Hulk screamed in Tony's face. Once he stopped screaming, she bit down on her fist and muffled her sobbing, pulling herself up. She stared down though and could see Tony was alive.

Pushing herself up onto the edge of the building, Vivian then fell back off of it into an alley, using her powers to slower herself down, but still landing hard on the ground. Vomiting up blood, Vivian's vision swam and she got up, reminding herself that this was still better than taking _ twelve flights of stairs_.

Pulling herself up, Vivian then stumbled out of the alley, looking over toward Steve desperately as Tony gasped, "What the hell? What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me."

"We won," Steve sighed happily, almost in disbelief.

Vivian could see the soot on Steve's face, the bruises all over his skin. The blood seeping out of his uniform, and she pulled out the ear piece, crushing it in her hand as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Steve. I never wanted any of this."

He couldn't hear her, didn't even know she was there, and she turned, moving as quickly as she could down the ruined street. Every step felt like her feet were made out of lead. When she finally stumbled through the doors of the building, Rumlow and Rolling grabbed her by her arms and immediately dragged her to the elevator.

"Look at you, thirty seconds to spare," Rumlow sneered. "Was kind of hoping you'd be late. Boss promised me if you were late, I could see just how far I could push your pet."

"Touch him and die," Vivian spat, blood dripping down her chin.

"You don't look like you can stand up on your own, let alone hurt m--"

Screaming, Vivian threw herself at Rumlow, slamming him against the wall and wrapping her hands around his throat. She could feel the skin in her abdomen tearing from the effort of that jump, but she clung to his throat and squeezed while snarling, "_You fucking cretin_. _ You pathetic waste of space_."

Slamming him hard against the wall and then releasing, Vivian stumbled back against the wall as Rumlow crumpled to the ground unconscious. Turning toward Rollins, she panted, "Take me to Barnes _ now _ or I swear to God, I'll make what I just did to him look like child's play."

Rollins nodded, his eyes wide and he fumbled with the hidden panel on the elevator. The doors opened at the next floor and he stumbled out, motioning her forward. Vivian went in that direction, glaring as Pierce moved toward her and chuckled, "I see that battle made you more feral than ever."

"I did what you asked. Take me to him," Vivian insisted.

"Because of how _ helpful _ you were out in the battle today, I'll choose to ignore your insolence," Pierce sighed and turned toward a door. The room had a similar set up to how she'd seen on Steve when they'd been thawing him. Following Pierce in once the door opened, Vivian immediately rushed over to the chamber, placing her hand on it and falling heavily to her knees. Blood smeared along the glass, but she leaned against it, finally able to breathe evenly and just _ rest _. Bucky was safe. Steve was safe. Natasha was safe. Tony was safe. Loki had lost. The army was dead.

"You may remain here until you've recovered. No more, no less," Pierce said, leaving the room and shutting it behind him.

Vivian could hear the doors securely lock, but her vision was already fading. Blood was pooled around her knees, soaking into her leggings and she slowly crumpled to the ground. She wrapped herself around the tube, almost clinging to it as she gasped, "Should have seen him, Buck. You'd have been so proud. I was so proud, but so worried. Hard to keep him safe. Hard to keep you both safe. Not sure I'm doing a good job."

Vivian's head fell to the side and she slipped unconscious. The last thing she saw was Bucky's sleeping face and his hand pressed up against the glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the idea of adding the X-Men into this scene, especially since they are based in New York. Well, upstate New York, but for sure close enough where they could and would send some people down to fight aliens invading. Plus it's not like I had to add a ton of aliens to make that battle fair or something. There was a metric fuckton of aliens in that fight.
> 
> Fun fact: I keep forgetting to let y'all know November 1st is Vivian's birthday. So this chapter just happened to get posted during Vivian's birthday weekend, although it's not currently Vivian's birthday in this chapter. It wasn't intentional. It just ended up having that timing that this real life weekend is like that.


	10. Ten: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: old man jokes from Stark, people joke about circus folk, and there are blink and you miss 'em jokes about Indiana and New Jersey
> 
> Like, I'm aware that there's canon material to indicate either the Barnes family is from Indiana, but I'm not about that life. So yeah. Only a couple of people in the family live in Indiana and their choice to move there was buckwild.

Between fighting off an alien invasion, taking Loki into custody, and eating shawarma with the team directly afterward, Steve had barely made it back to his own bed before he’d collapsed from exhaustion. He'd slept for a grand total of twelve hours. Getting up, Steve groaned and peeled off his uniform, heading into the shower to take a long one. It took a while to scrub off the grime and he winced at the mostly healed wound on his stomach. That was definitely going to be sore for a few more days to be sure. Once he was done, he got dressed and then headed into his kitchen, preparing a massive amount of eggs, bacon, and hash browns while he looked at his phone.

_ Thor's dragging Asgard's mistake off this planet along with the cube at around noon. _

Smiling at that, Steve leaned against the wall while he texted back: _ Thanks for the heads up, Tony_.

Steve was piling up the food onto his plate as he received a text back.

_ I didn't know relics could text_.

Steve snorted and opened the text message up before closing it, purposely putting his phone away and eating his breakfast. Grabbing his tablet, he thought about the past few days and then impulsively sent a few emails out. He'd been meaning to contact some people for a while, but he'd been putting it off. He figured surviving what had almost been the end of the world was pretty much a sign from the universe to get his act together and just do it. His phone rang and he set aside his tablet before he answered it.

"Did you seriously leave me on _ read_?"

"Hello, Tony. Yes, I'm fine. How are you?" Steve replied, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, whatever, not the point, Capsicle. You left me on _ read_."

"And?" Steve asked. "I'm an old man. How can I be expected to keep up with you young people and your newfangled technology?"

"You're supposed to be some virtuous old man. How the hell are you being this sarcastic?"

Steve took a big bite of his breakfast, not responding at all. He could hear Tony becoming more and more exasperated until the man burst out, "You know SHIELD is going to try to recruit you, right? Especially after yesterday. They're going to hound you."

"I’m aware," Steve replied.

"Oh, I see. Wait, did _ Captain America _ turn SHIELD down?" Tony burst into laughter and Steve rolled his eyes as Tony exclaimed, "Oh, that's amazing. You told Nick Super Spy Fury the word _ no _ ? Seriously? How did he take that? Do you have transcripts? Wait, do you think _ they _ have transcripts? Because if they do, then I absolutely have transcripts. Remember? You gave me the disappointed old man stare when I--"

"Tony, was there something you needed?" Steve interrupted carefully.

"You left me on read after I sent you the location of the meet up."

"I'll be there," Steve insisted. "I didn't respond because I was eating breakfast and also contacting someone else."

"Was it Fury?"

"Tony, I will see you at the meet up," Steve said patiently.

"Wait, do you need a ride? I can swing by and pick you up on the way there. I'm already bringing Banner."

"Thank you, but it's not necessary. I've got my own ride," Steve explained, hoping that would be the end to it.

"Wait, were those pics of you riding a motorcycle _ real_? I thought that was photoshop." There was a pause and then Tony continued, "Photoshop, by the way, is--"

"I'm aware of what photoshop is, Tony, and yes, I own a motorcycle. Do you have any other pressing questions?"

"Yeah, so, what was with the stripper version of the stars and stripes? That your idea or--"

"Goodbye, Tony," Steve said and then hung up, chuckling and shaking his head. Seconds later, his phone beeped, and he grinned, seeing half a dozen texts from Tony. The first few were just like Tony said, just information about where Thor was leaving and a bunch of questions about whether Steve had actually left him on read.

_ Did you just hang up on me? Old people are mean. _

Snorting at that last text message, Steve finished the last few bites of food before rinsing his dishes and putting everything in the dishwasher. By the time he was done with that, there was a reply in his email. As soon as he saw it, he sat down and smiled softly. They'd agreed to meet him.

Letting out his breath slowly, Steve got up and paced. He wasn't sure how to prepare. The whole day seemed _ so long_. Steve read, he did push ups and then he even took yet another shower to pass the time. Once that wasn't enough, he grabbed his tablet, a small amount of personal items, and his jacket before he left. He put his items securely on his bike and headed off. Even with the traffic, he was going to end up being early to the rendezvous, but that couldn't be helped. He'd been getting too restless indoors and he’d missed the feeling of wind hitting against him. Or at least as much of his head that wasn't covered by a helmet. The dealership had made sure he'd known about the helmet law in place before he'd ever left their lot with his new bike.

Steve wasn't sure they weren't just trying to upsell him until he'd gotten home with the bike and double checked that the law was legitimate. Agent Tanner had provided him with a deep blue motorcycle helmet from SHIELD. He was pretty sure it'd just been yet another thing SHIELD had done to try to get on his good side.

Parking on the side of the street, Steve took off his helmet, securing it to the back and walking off. The weather was actually really nice and the location itself was pretty quiet. Everything about the place just seemed like a normal day. He could hear birds singing. He could hear people nearby chatting and laughing. Life had gone on, which was amazing since just the day before Steve had felt like it was ending all over again. Aliens had invaded Manhattan. Buildings had been leveled. The US government had fired a nuke at civilians.

"Hey Cap. You anxious to see that lunatic off this planet too?"

Glancing over, Steve smiled as Romanoff and Barton got out of a SHIELD car and headed his way. Barton was wearing sunglasses and had a few more bandages on his face than he'd had the day before. He also had the largest cup of coffee in his hands that Steve had ever seen.

"Barton has a real gift for stating the obvious," Romanoff explained, leaning against the railing next to him. Her expression was mostly blank, but Steve could see the amusement in her gaze.

Meanwhile, Barton next to her grinned widely and bounced on his feet a little before drinking deep from his cup. Steve quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Are you _ always _ drinking coffee?"

Clint nodded, "Only way to live, Cap. I tried to get SHIELD to authorize me to have it put in as an IV, but they claimed it was 'dangerous' and 'stupid' and 'potentially illegal'. Bunch of spoil sports if you ask me."

"This is his third cup today," Natasha added.

"Second," Barton argued. "The first one doesn't count since I tripped and dropped the coffee pot down a flight of stairs."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Just because you drink your coffee straight from the coffee pot doesn't mean that it counts as one cup."

"I used it as a cup, so why shouldn't it count as one cup? Cap, back me up on this," Clint begged.

Steve shook his head, mystified, "I'm with Natasha on this one. That doesn't count as a single cup of coffee. So, how many _ pots _ of coffee have you drank today?"

"I drank one pot and then I made a second and filled up this cup since Nat said it was time to go," Barton shrugged.

Steve then frowned and asked, "Aren't you a sniper?"

Barton snorted and nearly choked on his coffee before he laughed, "I mean, technically, but I'm no soldier. Didn't learn this skill from the _ army_. Besides, what does that have to do with anything?"

Glancing over at Natasha, Steve's eyes widened as she stole his coffee for a moment and took a sip before handing it back over as she said, "He's circus folk."

"The _ circus_? How'd you end up with SHIELD?" Steve asked, more than a little confused.

"I got hired for Fury's birthday party and things went wacky during the balloon animal portion," Clint replied dryly, choking on his coffee as Natasha elbowed him.

Natasha sighed, "Ignore him. He thinks he's funny."

"I _ know _ I'm funny!"

"Anyway, why'd you ask he's a sniper?" Natasha asked, refocusing the conversation.

Steve shrugged, "Just that the sharpshooters I knew usually…"

"Had an easier time sitting still, better balance, and didn't constantly trip over their own feet?" Natasha supplied easily.

Steve nodded, "That."

"Circus folk," Natasha nodded, as if that explained everything, and really it kind of did.

Steve shook his head, wanting to sigh with relief as a sports car pulled up with Stark and Banner inside it. Shortly behind them was a truck that opened up and Selvig got out of it. Heading closer as he saw Loki getting lead over by Thor, Steve stood nearby and watched as Selvig and Banner _ carefully _ pulled the cube out of its containment and put it into an odd glass contraption with two handles.

No one said a word as this was all done. Even Stark was quiet, watching the whole thing with furtive glances. Steve glanced over as Natasha leaned close and whispered something into Clint's ear. Whatever she said made Clint smirk and then he signed something to her. Steve didn't catch the entirety of whatever he signed to her, but the part that he did catch _ was _ incredibly lewd.

Glancing back as Thor held out the contraption to Loki, the two held onto the two sides of the unit before Thor nodded at each of them. Steve watched as one of the handles turned only for bright blue tesseract energy to envelop them. Stepping back as it did so, Steve watched as they then shot up into the sky.

Shaking his head, Steve headed over and shook Tony's hand, "You did a good job, Tony. You should be proud."

Tony shook his hand and rolled his eyes, "I did an _ amazing _ job. All part of being a genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist."

Steve chuckled at that and waved, glancing over as Natasha pulled a bag out of the backseat of her car and handed it to Banner. He shook his head though as Stark loudly announced, "If you want, I can hire you. You'd be a good bodyguard, Cap. You know, if you keep wanting to tell SHIELD 'no'. Could be fun. Would drive Fury _ nuts_."

Barton grinned over at him, "You turned Fury down to join SHIELD? Didn't know you had it in you, Rogers."

Steve sighed, glancing over as Banner hopped into Stark's car and the two drove off. Facing Romanoff and Barton, Steve moved closer, his hands shoved into his pockets. He shrugged as he confessed, "I just don't know if it's the right fit. Fury…is Fury. I don't know if I trust him. Especially not after the stunt he pulled recently."

Natasha frowned, looking torn and she then got into the driver's seat of the car. Barton sighed, tilting his head back. He chugged the rest of his coffee before turning and throwing it easily into a trashcan a few yards away only to turn and almost trip as he explained, "Listen, is SHIELD always on the up and up? Absolutely not. And honestly you don't have to do a damn thing you don't want to do, but Cap, I saw you out there."

"And?" Steve asked.

Barton lifted up his sunglasses (which Steve only just realized were an incredibly dark purple instead of black) and scoffed, "So I saw that you're damn good at what you do. Nobody says you gotta keep doing that forever, but the organization _ needs _ people like you to keep us honest. You join, you can keep an eye on it all. Make sure Fury's not pulling more cube nonsense. You can voice your opinions to him. Maybe shame him into doing the right thing. Sometimes that works."

"Is that what you do?"

"Me?" Clint laughed. "Hell no. Leading's not my style, Cap. Not enough of a big picture guy for that. You are though. Just keep it in mind."

Steve waved and nodded, sighing as Clint got into the car and it drove off. Getting onto his motorcycle, he then checked his watch before muttering under his breath. He wasn't going to be _ late _ per say, but he was going to cut it close if he didn't get a move on.

Putting on his helmet, Steve headed off. He was going upstate, away from the crowds of the city. It would take him hours to get to the Barnes' residence, but it would put him just in time for dinner. The hours going there had also given him time to think about how lucky he was that they'd even agreed to see him. After all, he'd contacted them that morning and he'd gotten almost an immediate invitation to dinner. More of a demand really.

At a stop to fill up on gas, he'd quickly texted Maggie if they needed him to pick up anything on the way there only to get a barrage of text messages basically telling him that if he even thought about doing that, he'd get his ass kicked. Shaking his head, Steve could only laugh before he continued on.

When he finally got to the neighborhood, he found the house quick enough, pulling up around back to the detached garage and parking. Stepping off the bike, he took off his helmet and grabbed the saddlebags off his bike. Heading up to the door, he'd barely held up his hand to knock when it flew open and he found himself staring at the spitting image of Becca Barnes when she was younger. The woman grinned wildly and announced, "Grandma, he's here!"

Smiling at that, Steve then let himself get led in, setting his things by the front door as the young woman announced, "Sorry. Should have warned you in the email and when we were texting that I can be a little much."

"No problem," Steve chuckled, "I'm kind of used to the Barnes clan being a little more on the, uh, shall we say exuberant side? It's nice to meet you, Maggie."

Maggie grinned wildly, "Thanks. Nice to meet you too. I was excited to meet you. Although not as excited as Fred. That's short for Winnifred, by the way. James _ was _ going to be here, but he got caught up at work."

Steve's eyes widened, and then smiled as Maggie paused and turned toward him, "Right, sorry. Explanation time. I'm Rebecca's granddaughter. She named me after Margaret Carter, obviously, although I didn't become a super spy. I went off and became a chef. Winnifred is Aunt Liz's granddaughter and is a professor at the University of Buffalo. She teaches history. She probably is not going to shut up about World War II because she's kind of obsessed. She has a doctorate in history and literally never lets us forget it. James is Aunt Ida's grandson. He has an actual doctorate. There are more of us, obviously, but we're the ones who stayed in-state. Several cousins moved out to LA. A few have started getting bit parts in TV shows and stuff. A couple cousins even moved out to _ Indiana _ of all places? I don't know. They're weird. Although not as weird as the cousins that moved out to Jersey. I mean, c'mon, _ Jersey_?"

"Jesus, Maggie, you talk his ear off enough?" a voice cut in and Steve grinned as another brunette came over, rolling her eyes and leaning against the wall. "I regularly lecture for hours at a time _ as my job _ and I find you exhausting."

"Shut up, _ Winnie_," Maggie groaned.

"It's Fred and you know it," Fred snapped, rolling her eyes and then turning toward Steve. She held out her hand, "Sorry about Maggie. She was raised by wild animals and doesn't know how to have a polite conversation to save her life. I'm Fred."

"Nice to meet you both," Steve said with a smile. "And like I told Maggie, pretty sure the Barnes clan has _ always _ been like this. Just tradition, really."

"Steven Grant Rogers, you get your ass over here and you give me a hug!"

Glancing over, Steve swallowed hard, carefully moving past Maggie and Fred before he pulled Becca into a hug. She'd come over on a walker and he wanted to cry. Becca hugged him tightly and he chuckled as she teased, "Saw you on the news. Never could keep a reckless idiot like you out of trouble, could they?"

Pulling back, Steve gave a wet laugh and teased back, "C'mon, that's what the Barnes women were there for, to keep reckless idiots like me out of trouble."

Becca scoffed, "I'm retired, hotshot. Gonna leave never ending nonsense like that to the next generation. Maybe they have the energy to keep you out of jail. Sure as hell don't know how Bucky managed it."

Steve's heart clenched and he replied softly, "We both know he didn't most of the time."

Becca threw her head back and laughed a full body laugh, using her walker as a crutch before she turned and started heading through a doorway to the living room while announcing, "Girls, look what the cat dragged in."

Moving into the room, Steve smiled as he saw Liz and Ida sitting on a couch, bickering quietly about a puzzle they had set up on a table. Once they glanced up, the two both stood up, but Steve moved over and swept them both up into his arms. The two laughed and Steve struggled not to cry. He remembered holidays with the Barnes family when his mom had been working. He remembered nights when he'd been there being looked after. He remembered afternoons after school when he'd make them so mad that they'd sometimes just scream at him.

Pulling back, Steve grinned as Liz swatted at his arm while insisting, "Sit down! You're too tall."

Laughing, Steve sat down in a chair near them, grinning as Becca moved over to a seat and sighed, "Liz, I swear, you're gonna give all of us a bad name."

"Pah," Ida scoffed. "Steve already knows what he's getting himself into. Nothin' Liz can do to change that, for better or worse."

"Yeah," Liz retorted. "Besides, out of the people in this room, Steve's still the only one that's ever been arrested for getting into a back alley fight."

"Hey," Steve grinned, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "In my defense, those guys deserved it."

"Oh, we know they deserved it," Ida waved away. "Those guys were creeps."

"Yeah, just the rest of us knew how to not get caught by the cops when we punched Nazis in the face," Liz added, pretending to look innocent.

Steve burst into laughter, leaning forward and teasing, "Elizabeth Charlotte Barnes, were you getting into fist fights after I left?"

Liz scoffed, "Don't you full name me, Steven Grant Rogers. And _ after _? I was getting into those fights while you were still in town."

Becca sighed, "Only by the grace of God did she not get arrested."

Ida rolled her eyes, "God had nothin' to do with Liz's reckless ass choices."

Steve snorted at that, smiling widely as Liz grabbed a pillow next to her, lobbing it over and hitting Ida on the side of the head while snapping, "And when's the last time you went to church, Ida Marie?"

"Last Sunday while you were at the bingo hall tryin' to make plans with Matthew," Ida retorted.

Becca cleared her throat and snapped, "Ida, Elizabeth, Steven did not come all the way back from the dead just to hear you two bicker about bingo halls!"

"We're not kids," Ida grumbled, sulking slightly.

"Then stop acting like it," Becca insisted before turning back to Steve. "I am sorry about them, Steve."

Steve shook his head and smiled, "I've missed this. I've missed the chaos of the Barnes family. Your ma treated me like I was one of her own more often than not and the three of you treated me like I was just another annoying big brother. It was…nice."

The three women immediately became more somber and Steve swallowed hard as the room went quiet. He could now hear Maggie and Fred moving around in the kitchen. He blinked back tears as he focused back on the Barnes sisters before Becca sighed, "You _ are _ family, Steve. Always have been, always will be. Would have been official if the law wasn't so stupid sometimes."

"How did you know about us anyway?" Steve asked curiously. "Buck mentioned that you told him as much at that last dinner, but not how you knew."

Becca sighed, "I figured it out on my own. I don't think many other people figured it out, but I knew Buck like the back of my hand. Everyone could see how in love Bucky was with Viv, could see it all over his face like some neon sign whenever he looked at her. People overlook what they want to overlook and ignored how all three of you looked at each other that way. Seeing the three of you interact was like peeking through to a whole other universe that was just the three of you."

Ida and Liz both nodded as Ida explained, "Liz and I didn't figure it out until after that dinner. The three of us started comparing notes after you answered about waiting for the right partner and then just…immediately looked at Buck and Viv. At first we thought you were in love with Vivian and were jealous of Buck, but Becca explained it to us. Got us to keep our mouths shut about it. I don't know if Mom or Dad ever knew. And then Buck and Viv were both gone so it just seemed…"

Ida shrugged almost hopelessly and Liz sighed, finishing her sister's thought, "It seemed cruel to bring up what you'd lost or to discuss it after that."

Steve wiped away tears before they could fall as he confessed, "I'm so sorry. I should have saved them."

Immediately the three women were up on their feet, moving with speed and agility they didn't look capable of as they surrounded him and hugged him tightly. Burying his face into Becca's shoulder, Steve inhaled sharply, trying not to sob as Becca scolded him, "Now you listen here, and you listen good, Rogers. You may be a super soldier, but that doesn't make you God. You can't control the world or the monsters that are in it. It was never on you to do that. The people who murdered James and Vivian are the ones responsible. You tried your best to save them, and that's what counts. They know that. Now you need to know that too."

"They were _ constantly _ saving me and the _ one time _ they needed me, I--"

The three women pulled back and Becca grabbed him by his chin and made him look at her, "No. Don't do that. This isn't some cosmic balance you have to right, Steven. Those two took care of you because they loved you with every single molecule in their bodies. They never did it because they wanted you to _ owe them _ or eventually _ make it up to them_. They did it because they _ chose _ to do it."

"Becca, I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to be without them," Steve whispered, his voice broken.

"What do _ you _ want to do?" Liz asked with a frown.

Steve closed his eyes, tears slipping slowly down his face before he confessed, "SHIELD wants me to join them, wants me to protect people again. And part of me wants that, wants to be able to put all my energy into all of that, but…what if I screw up again? What if I cause more harm than good?"

"You might," Becca agreed, and Steve's eyes opened wide. Becca smiled warmly at him though and Steve swallowed hard as she explained, "Steve, that's always the risk when we do anything. Trying always has the option that you'll fail. Just tell me this, what happens if you don't try at all?"

"Nothin' gets better then," Steve whispered.

"Exactly. Only you can decide if SHIELD is the right option for you, and if you decide to do something else because it's what you truly think you need to do then that's fine. However, if you're stayin' away from SHIELD _ just _ because you're afraid of things going sideways then that ain't a reason at all, Rogers. People have said that serum was your second chance at life. Now, coming out of the ice like that, you're on your third, so what are you going to do with it?"

"Well, other than visit us more often," Liz teased. "No matter what your plans are, they've gotta include that or we'll send our grandkids to hunt you down. And we've got a lot of 'em."

Steve laughed at that and then stood up, hugging the three of them close to him as he whispered, "You got it."

"Hate to break up this moment, but dinner's ready," Maggie announced.

Glancing over at Maggie as the woman glanced in nervously, Steve released the three Barnes sister before going over and teasing, "Did your grandma ever tell you about how Bucky used to prank her and she'd scream so loud Winnie thought the windows would break?"

Becca glared, "Steven Rogers, don't you dare go tellin' that story!"

Steve smirked and winked over at Maggie, throwing his head back and laughing as Maggie teased, "Oh, if he doesn't tell me, I'm kicking his sorry ass out of the house."

Steve really had missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious as to what I imagined the discussion between Nat and Clint was that was very lewd, I was picturing the following:
> 
> "What do you think they're going to do with that?"  
"Hopefully shove it up Loki's ass."
> 
> Also, I am 100% not picturing Jeremy Renner in the role of Hawkeye, both because of the abuse allegations from his wife as well as [a littany of other shit he's done.](https://twitter.com/89toziers/status/1151268041973309440) Also, even before I found out about all of that, i wasn't looking to him as Hawkeye since I have Hawkeye as much younger than he is in the movies. In this fic he's only a couple of years older than Natasha. She's born in 1984 and he's born in 1977. So their ages are 35 and 27/28. For comparison, Steve going on just unfrozen years is 27/28 years old.
> 
> So I'm personally picturing hm as Chris Pine, both because I love Chris Pine, but also I think he suits [Clint 'beautiful chaotic idiot' Barton.](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/f0/1b/b2/f01bb2b81a023d5305c46e4043dda004.jpg)  

> 
> In other news, I have to go back and edit a few chapters because I realized I've been typing Winnifred as Winifred. Both names are correct but Winnifred Barnes is Bucky's mom. Winifred Barnes was an actress.


	11. Eleven: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst and Vivian is extremely dismissive about her own health and well-being
> 
> I think I say this every chapter, but I really do mean it: if you believe something needs to have a warning at the top of the chapter and/or a tag on this story, please let me know either in the comment section or you can message me on tumblr. My tumblr name is [AmazonRhinos](https://amazonrhinos.tumblr.com/). I try to check tumblr about once a day, but I'm not always great about it.

The soldier woke to pins and needles, the sensation of fire licking at his skin as his nerve endings came back to life. Somehow in the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew it was always like this. This pain was always there. His muscles were weak and his head was fuzzy. He didn't know who he was or where he was, but he knew he was dangerous, not that it was obvious as he stumbled out of the chamber. The men outside just watched him struggle, odd smirks on their faces. Any number of them could have helped, but they didn't. A blond, imposing looking man stood in front of him, his eyes gleaming.

"Test him. I want to know the baseline for this weapon."

The agents nodded and only then did they help him. He was led over to a chair and blood was drawn. A needle was put into his skin and he saw liquid being pumped into his body. No one explained anything, but he looked at the bag hanging next to him and somehow knew it was an IV. Once that was done, he was rushed to the bathroom and locked in. He showered and brushed his teeth, knowing without being told that he only had a short time to get all of this done. He'd barely finished getting dressed when he was pulled out and shoved back into the chair.

"What is your name?"

The soldier frowned, his brow furrowing. After a moment he shook his head, "I don't know."

"Where are you from?"

He frowned, not knowing the answer to the question, but then pointed over toward the chamber, "I came out of that."

The agent laughed as if he'd said something hilarious and then sighed, "Do you have any family?"

Something tugged at the soldier's mind, but it was out of reach. It was like there was a barrier between him and the information. "I…I don't know."

"Get up."

The soldier did as he was asked and then he was led to another room. For hours they tested his strength, his speed, his endurance. They tested his ability to fight, dodge, block, climb. They tested him on languages. They seemed pleased with the results and then led him to a room where he was instructed to sleep on a cot. The soldier slept fitfully, flashes of faces filling his dreams. He didn't know who they were though. Three people in particular kept showing up over and over and over again though. A short blond man, a tall blond man, and a blonde woman. Others showed up, but those three seemed the most important. They were the ones that made his heart scream. 

The next morning he showered, changed and then was led back to the room. A different agent was there this time as he demanded, "What is your name?"

"I don't know."

"Where are you from?"

"A city, I think."

"Do you have any family?"

"I think so, but I don't know."

The tests were all the same. The sleep was the same, but more detail. The morning was the same.

"What is your name?"

"I…don't know."

"Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn."

"Do you have any family?"

"I had parents. I had sisters."

"Do you know their names?"

"I don't know."

"Anyone else?"

"Steve. Vivian."

"Who were they?"

"I don't know, but they were important."

The agent's expression didn't give anything away, but he was then led back to that room and tested again. This time when he slept, he got more details. More everything. He remembered Steve and Vivian more. He remembered _ himself _ more.

"What is your name?"

"James Barnes."

"Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn."

"Do you have any family?"

"Parents and three sisters."

"Do you know their names?"

"George, Winnifred, Rebecca, Elizabeth, Ida."

"Anyone else?"

"Steve and Vivian."

"Who were they?"

"My best friend and my fiancée."

The agent frowned and James stared him down. After a few minutes, the agent backed down and left the room. He was sent immediately back to his room. As the day went on, he remembered he hadn't liked being called James. He'd hated that name. Too many boys had been named James, and it had never felt like him. No, he'd been _ Bucky _. And Steve hadn't just been his friend. Steve had been his lover, had been part of his very soul. The three of them. Steve, Vivian, and Bucky. They'd been a trio. Three pieces of the same heart.

"Get up." 

Bucky glanced at the symbol on the man's uniform, and it came in waves. Hydra. The fall. Being held captive. It was like an avalanche of information and he winced, gripping at his hair until he was pulled up and led out of the room. Steve was dead. Viv was captured. She'd stayed captured for him. Shaking his head as he was taken to another room, Bucky felt his heart beat rapidly as the door opened and there was Viv.

"_Viv_," Bucky breathed.

Vivian glanced up, her eyes widening, and the two met halfway. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, cradling her close while he whispered her name like a prayer. She clung to him, her hands gripping at his shirt so tightly that the fabric strained. He barely noticed the door shut and lock as he pulled back, cradling her face in his hands as he whispered, "God, how long has it been? How long have we been apart this time?"

"Five years," Vivian whispered, her eyes glassy and her voice cracking. "It's 2012."

"Jesus," Bucky whispered. "Are we…are we in trouble again?"

Vivian shook her head, "No. Not this time. This time they're…pleased with me. I did what they asked."

"Viv, what did they make you do?"

Bucky watched, his entire body tense with worry, but then sighed with relief when she whispered, "This time, honestly? Something good. They wanted me to protect New York."

"What happened?" Bucky asked.

Vivian laughed, "Aliens invaded. Led by the Norse god Loki."

Bucky paused, leaning back further and staring at Vivian in shock before he asked, "_What_?"

Vivian nodded, "Yeah. I wish I were making that up, but it's the truth. Actual aliens invaded. Loki's an alien too, by the way."

"Norse gods are real?"

"Yeah. Thor too. I don't know about any others. I don't know if Odin is real."

Bucky gently pushed Vivian's hair behind her ears, chuckling and resting his forehead against hers, "You protected New York from an alien invasion. So why do you look so upset? You can't have thought I'd be mad at you for saving lives. I'm so goddamn proud of you for that."

"It's not that simple," Vivian whispered. "I had a chance to take out Hydra agents. I had a chance to weaken them, but I didn't. I didn't do anything to them."

"So you focused on saving lives instead of getting revenge? Not seeing how that's a flaw there, Kitten," Bucky whispered, leaning closer and brushing his lips against hers.

Vivian backed up, her fingers pressed against her lips. Frowning, Bucky reached for her, but she took another step back before she explained, "There's something else. I'm telling you this because you have a right to know, and also, full disclosure, I know that if I don't tell you, that they eventually will, and I don't want you to hate me."

"That's not possible."

"We both know better than anyone else that _ anything _ is possible."

"Then tell me. Tell me what's so bad that you're afraid you're going to lose me after _ eighty-one years_."

"I wasn't the only one protecting the city."

Bucky frowned and sat down on the bed, "Okay. C'mon, Viv, you're killing me here. What's this about?"

Vivian sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers and he sighed as she ran her fingers across his knuckles. "The X-Men showed up to defend the city, but there was also a group of people being called the Avengers that were there. Bruce Banner, Anthony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor, and…Steve Rogers."

The whole world seemed to slow down, and Bucky couldn't even focus on anything else. Standing up, Bucky breathed in slowly and deeply, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling. His heart was pounding in his throat and he just kept hearing _ Steve Rogers _ over and over again.

"Please…say something."

Bucky blinked back tears, pacing around the room, but didn't say anything for a few minutes. Finally, he turned to Vivian and begged, "_Is it really him_? Is it _ our _ Steve…is he…"

"He's alive," Vivian whispered, wiping away tears.

"_How_?"

"Best guess from the experts is a combination of the serum and the freezing water putting him in a sort of cryo state," Vivian said. "He was thawed in 2011. He woke up shortly after. The incident in New York was his first time putting the suit back on."

"Did you talk to him?" Bucky asked, his voice cracking.

Vivian shook her head, her voice shaking as she whispered, near tears, "I was told that if I went near him that you would die. That if I went near him, he would die. Every step of the way of that day, I wanted to go to him, to just hold him and never leave him again, but I knew I couldn't. Not without hurting both of you."

Cupping her face in his hands, Bucky whispered, "Is he okay?"

Vivian nodded, "He got a little banged up during the fight, but he's okay. He's alive."

"Then there's hope, Viv," Bucky smiled. "There's so much hope."

"Bucky, he's joined SHIELD. Hydra will be able to watch him even more than they were before. They'll know everything. If he steps one toe out of line, they'll hurt him."

"How many people know about Steve protecting the city during the alien invasion?" Bucky asked carefully, trying not to let himself get excited just yet.

"Basically everyone who's got access to the news or the internet. Why?" Vivian asked. "What? You think public exposure will be enough to keep him safe? We both know that's not true."

Bucky winced at that, but then sighed and whispered, "You're right." Focusing back on Vivian, Bucky frowned as he gently pushed her hair behind her ear. She glanced over at him and he smiled, "But Steve's a stubborn son of a bitch. Between that and the serum, he's going to be okay. Hell, maybe he'll even be the one to save us."

Vivian smiled weakly and nodded, "Maybe. I don't know. Pierce seems determined to get Steve to work for Hydra's goals, but--"

"It's not going to work. We both know it's not going to work," Bucky insisted, looking into Vivian's eyes. She sighed and nodded, staring at the ground, and he frowned. "Viv, how banged up did he get during that fight?"

"Stomach wound from an alien gun. Thrown out a window. Landed on a car," Vivian admitted. "He was really tired by the end of it. Seems like his recovery period was pretty short though."

"And what about you?" Bucky asked, gently nudging her.

"What about me?"

"How injured did you get?" Bucky asked, fearing the worst. Vivian wouldn't hedge around the question like this, pretend she hadn't understood it, unless it had been really bad.

"Doesn't matter. I healed."

Gently turning her toward him, Bucky frowned, "It _ does _ matter. _ Tell me_."

Vivian was quiet for a few seconds before she glanced at the ground, "Mild concussion, lots of bruising, several broken ribs, and my side was lacerated. Some of my organs were damaged, but they're fine now. _ I'm fine now_. Sepsis didn't even last that long, so it wasn't that bad."

Bucky felt like he was going to be ill, but instead he just pulled Vivian into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around him and he kissed her temple before whispering, "God, didn't those bastards give you any protection at all?"

"I had a gun."

Bucky gently squeezed her arm and muttered, "_That's not funny_, and _ you know _ that's not what I mean."

"Sorry."

Sighing as Vivian buried her face in his neck, Bucky smiled softly as he felt her lips gently press against his skin. Running his fingers through her hair, he whispered, "It's not your fault. Just…Viv, c'mon. Did they give you any sort of armor? Anything at all?"

Vivian shook her head and Bucky grit his teeth, shaking his head as he whispered, "I fucking hate those monsters. I _ hate _ that I can't _ protect you _ from just… _ all of this_."

Vivian pulled back and Bucky inhaled sharply as he brushed a strand off his face. His chest tightened as she smiled at him, and then he felt a tear slip down his cheek as she whispered, "Bucky, _ you _ are the reason I'm still here. Even when everything else seemed hopeless, even when my mind was shattering, and I didn't think I had it in me to just keep going, I would think of you."

Bucky pressed his forehead to Vivian's, tears coming faster as she continued, "You and Steve have always been my guiding lights. I don't know if you noticed, but without you, I'm kind of a mess."

"With or without us, you're amazing," Bucky whispered. "You are amazing because of who _ you _ are. Not because of who I am or who Steve is."

Bucky couldn't help but smile softly as Vivian leaned up and kissed him. Bucky kissed her back, but then grinned as she ended the kiss, breathing heavily as she whispered, "God, I love you."

Gently brushing his lips over hers, Bucky frowned as he felt her breath hitch. Her gaze was unsteady and he ran his fingers through her hair as he asked, "When's the last time you slept?"

"I don't know. I've been busy, and the adrenaline gets to me."

He didn't quite believe that, but he sighed and laid down, pulling her close as he murmured, "Then sleep now."

"But I barely get any time with you. I can sleep later. I can--" Bucky gently tilted Vivian's face toward his and kissed her softly, interrupting her excuses. She stared at him, looking slightly miffed, and he smiled as she grumbled, "That's not fair, and it's not a real argument, Buck."

"Oh, you want a real argument?" Bucky asked with a soft smile. "All right, I'll give you one. Let's say we stay up for the next twenty-four hours and just spend time with each other. Neither of us sleeps. What if you're immediately sent out into the field after that?"

She shrugged and Bucky shook his head, "No, I'm serious, Viv. What happens if you're sent out into the field when you're this exhausted?"

"I get a little more hurt than usual, that's all," Vivian said, as if it was nothing.

Bucky's brow furrowed, "And you think that's okay? You think I'm okay with knowing you got hurt because of me?"

"It wouldn't be your fault--"

"Except it would be," Bucky insisted. "It would be _ my fault_. So just…lay with me, _ please_. Let me hold you. Getting this rest, feeling like a normal person for just one night would be…amazing. It's not a waste."

Vivian's expression crumpled and Bucky smiled softly as she curled up with him, pressing her face against his chest. After a few moments, she slid next to him and moved onto her side. Turning and pressing up behind her, Bucky gently tucked her hair behind her ear again before he whispered, "Just sleep, okay? I'll protect you."

"I saw Steve with my own two eyes and sometimes I'm still not sure this is really happening, that we really have this opportunity to get him back," Vivian whispered.

Bucky nuzzled her neck, just listening to her as she kept talking, "Leaving him on that battlefield was the hardest thing I've done in a long time. I wish I could have gotten you free and then both of us could have gone back to him."

"I wish that too," Bucky whispered. "You know he still loves us, right?"

"I know."

Bucky wrapped an arm around Vivian's waist, feeling more relaxed than he had in years. He glanced at her in surprise as she admitted, "Pierce knows I care about Steve and he knows you're loyal to Steve, but he hasn't pieced together that the three of us were together. He thinks that, at most, I was cheating on you with Steve."

Bucky snorted and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, smiling softly. He could feel Vivian relaxing, her breathing becoming more even. Pressing another kiss to her neck, he smiled, "I love you so much, Kitten."

"I love you too."

Bucky stroked Vivian's hair until she fell asleep, blinking back tears as he took a deep breath. He was beyond grateful that Steve was back, but he was terrified by how far Vivian would inevitably push herself to keep both him and Steve safe. There was only so much someone could bend before they broke entirely. He just had to hope that Steve would find them before that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now Bucky and Viv both know. I was very excited to write this and at times it wasn't very easy to write.
> 
> I also deeply apologize if the job I did editing this wasn't the greatest. I recently (as in three days ago on November 14th) got into a minor car accident. I have a bit of whiplash and I've been a little out of it. I tried my best though.


	12. Twelve: 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Clint jokes about being HOH, Game of Thrones is made fun of, Steve gets sad
> 
> I swear this is the last chapter from 2012
> 
> Also, there are references to the plot of Iron Man 3 as well as an explanation from me about why Clint, Natasha, and Steve didn't show up in that movie.

Steve drank heavily from his water bottle, the ice in it long since melted leaving nothing but cold water. He could feel it as it went down his throat and into his stomach, could feel the way his body relaxed as he drank it in. The past few days, he'd practically been drinking his weight in water after the training sessions that SHIELD had been putting him through.

"I think if I drank that much water, I would die."

Lowering the water bottle and taking slow, deliberate breaths, Steve glanced up at Clint. Clint was leaning against the wall, a grin on his face. Well, part of a grin. The bandage on one of his cheeks seemed to prevent a full smile. Steve had gotten used to seeing some bandage or another on the man.

"So if you're not drinking water after a workout, what are you drinking?" Steve asked curiously.

"Coffee, obviously," Clint scoffed. "My post-workout routine is coffee and pizza."

"Coffee and pizza?" Steve asked incredulously.

Clint nodded, "It's genius, really."

"It's the reason why you've had an ulcer twice," Natasha interrupted, coming forward. She had a towel draped over her shoulders and a water bottle in her hand.

Clint grumbled something unintelligible into his coffee cup, but then seemed to get over it immediately as he looked over at Natasha and smiled at her. There was a softness in his gaze as he teased, "If either of you squares want to learn to recuperate in style, I'll be upstairs with the greatest post-workout regime known to man."

Clint then backed up, humming something under his breath. Steve snorted as an agent approached Clint with a file only for Clint to rapidly remove his hearing aid, shove it into his pocket and shout, "Sorry, I'm hard of hearing. Can't help. Can't work. Ask Natasha."

The agent glared, but then sighed and came over, handing the file over to Natasha. He then left, muttering about how Clint was a pain in the ass as Natasha read it over.

"We got a case?" Steve asked curiously.

"_I _ have been given an update. You still need to finish your training and then be tested before we let you out into the field as an agent of SHIELD."

"I did just fine during the battle of New York," Steve insisted.

"Yes, you've said as much before, but you also exerted more energy than you needed to and failed to protect your abdomen, leading to unnecessary injuries and a longer recovery time than expected."

Steve sighed, glancing up at Natasha, "Can you at least tell me what's going on?"

Natasha glanced over at him and shut the file, holding it at her side, "If I tell you what's going on, you'll just go AWOL, and don't try to lie to me. I've read your file. Your whole M.O. is to pretend you're following the rules only to do whatever you think is best anyway. It's why you chastised Stark. Your issue with him wasn't that he broke the rules, but that he bragged about it."

"If it's something major, I'll probably find out about it from the news," Steve pointed out.

"Then go watch the news."

Sighing at Natasha's bland stare, Steve pleaded, "Natasha, please. What's going on?"

Natasha checked her watch on her wrist, "You have twelve hours before your next training session. I suggest you spend this time showering, eating an actually healthy meal, and getting some rest. Although you are an adult so if you want to join Barton in his daily mistake then you're free to do so."

Steve finished off his water, watching Natasha as she headed out of the room. Her expression hadn't given away anything about what had been in the file. It could have been anything from a generic memo about bureaucratic filler to information about an ongoing catastrophe.

Getting up, Steve grabbed his gym equipment and then headed into the locker room to shower and change. He'd showered as quickly as possible before changing into a clean outfit and then heading up to the rec room where Clint liked to hang out after missions. It was there that he found Clint lounging on the couch, his hearing aid back in his ear as he lazily ate large slices of pizza.

Sitting on the couch, Steve glanced at the screen, nodding to it as he asked, "What exactly is this?"

Clint paused mid-bite and paused the TV before turning toward him, "Wait, you _ don't _ know this show?" Steve shook his head and Clint gaped, "Then what the fuck do you do when you're not training?"

Steve frowned, "Read, cook, watch documentaries, and sometimes I draw."

"Jesus Christ, Steve. Don't you ever listen to music or anything?"

"Sometimes. I got a vinyl player that I listen to when I draw."

"Okay, do you listen to music in any other way?" Steve shook his head and Clint sighed, "Okay, did _ anyone _ help you with pop culture since you woke up? Music? TV shows and movies that aren't documentaries? Books that aren't non-fiction? _ Video games_?"

Steve's heart pounded in his chest and his throat felt dry as he struggled for words. After several moments of his floundering, Clint sighed, "Sorry. I'm not judging you or anything--okay never mind I'm definitely judging you, but it's not your fault. Who was the agent assigned to you when you first woke up?"

"Agent Tanner," Steve said quietly.

Clint burst into laughter, "No wonder you're behind. Tanner's a fucking idiot. Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if it was coming directly at him, you know what I mean?"

"I don't think that's how that saying goes," Steve said, his brows furrowing.

Clint shrugs, "Who cares. Language is what you make it. Fuck the rules. Anyway, you should make a list of movies, music, and shows you want to check out, because there's going to be a ton of stuff to get through. More than what you can do at one sitting or at all usually when that person tells you."

Reaching into his bag, Steve pulled out a notepad, "Like this?"

"I mean, I meant make a memo in your phone, but if you want to old school this, that's fine."

Steve arched an eyebrow and Clint shrugged, "I'm serious. I don't give a fuck how you keep notes. I personally have to keep my notes in my phone because a notebook isn't capable of screaming its location to me when I inevitably leave it somewhere in my apartment and can't fucking find it."

Steve smiled at that as Clint stretched and then motioned to the box, "You want some pizza? It's local. Not any of that chain bullshit."

Steve thought about it and then shrugged, reaching for a slice. Folding it, he took a bite and smiled as Clint held out his fist. Bumping his fist against Clint's before he then glanced at the TV. Motioning to where it was paused, Steve asked, "So what exactly is this and should it go on my list?"

"Only if you've got FOMO like I do."

"FOMO?" Steve frowned.

"Fear of missing out," Clint sighed. "It's a curse."

"So is the show actually good?" Steve asked with a frown.

Clint shrugged, "Eh? I mean, it looks good. It's got a fucking amazing intro and theme. The characters are all monsters though and it doesn't have nearly as much archery as I'd like for a show about medieval assholes."

"But aren't there any good guys?"

Clint snorted, "I mean, sort of." He then pointed at the screen where a man was standing with a group of children and then he paused, "Wait, do you care about spoilers?"

"Spoilers?"

"You know, when someone spoils part of a thing you haven't seen yet."

Steve frowned, "Uh, I don't think so."

"Oh, thank God," Clint sighed. "That guy's name is Ned and he's a truly good guy. He's got honor for days, so of course he's straight up murdered at the end of season 1. Basically anyone who's even somewhat good will be punished or murdered. Also people that are shitty are punished and murdered."

"Then what's the point of this show?" Steve asked, genuinely curious. "Why watch something that continues to be so…depressing? Is it all building to something better?"

"Probably not," Clint admitted before taking a huge bite of pizza. "Like I said, FOMO is a big part of it, but also I think some people are under the delusion that this is going to end well. It's not, but they have hope. Although there are some people who just like how much nudity is in the show. Some people just like gritty shows because they're edgy. Others just like medieval themed shows."

"I don't think that show is something I would enjoy."

"Probably not. Yeah, probably don't put this on your list, honestly."

Steve nodded slowly, smiling softly as Clint took a sip of his coffee, seeming lost in thought. "Star Wars and Star Trek should both be on the list. Oh and that one trilogy by that Token guy. The one with elves and hobbits and wizards and shit. It's good."

Steve frowned, but then his eyes widened, "_Tolkien_?"

Clint grinned and snapped his fingers, "That's the one. Hold on." Clint pulled out his phone and began searching before he sighed, "Right. There was the Hobbit and that's being turned into a trilogy. First one just came out. Lord of the Rings is set after the hobbit and is about Frodo Baggins." Clint shrugged, "The archery was fun in those movies."

"All right," Steve said, swallowing hard. "Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings. Any other suggestions?"

"Listen to Queen. Watch cartoons. Avatar the Last Airbender is really fucking good."

Steve nodded, writing it down in his notebook before he cleared his throat, about to leave when he remembered what he'd originally come to talk to Clint about in the first place. "Hey, Clint? What was in that folder you turned away?"

Clint sighed, "Stark got himself into trouble again."

"Does he need our help?" Steve asked.

Clint turned the TV off before turning toward him, "Don't do what you're thinking about doing."

"I never said I was going to do anything," Steve said coolly.

Clint snorted, "Yeah, I'm not fucking stupid, Rogers. First of all, you have no poker face to speak of and I could _ destroy you _ at a game of cards. Second of all, you've got that whole righteous man of God thing going for you. Right now no one knows where Stark even is and you're not approved for missions even if we did."

"Wait," Steve said, holding up his hands. "How is it possible that no one knows where Stark is?"

"Man, you really don't check the alerts on your phone, do you?"

"I was a little busy with training. Just tell me what happened."

Clint shrugged, "So, you know how there have been those mysterious bombings, right? Well, one hurt Stark's friend and Stark decides his big plan is to give the perpetrator his home address. Place got blown up."

"Holy--do we even know if he's okay?" Steve demanded. "Why isn't SHIELD out there looking for him?"

Clint stood up, setting his pizza aside before he retorted, "SHIELD _ is _ out looking for him. They were the first responders to that burning crater that was his home. He wasn't there. His girlfriend, also his CEO, Pepper Potts swears he's still alive. We'd focus on finding him, but there have been more bombings. And right now you haven't finished training, so you're here."

"But I can help."

"With _ what _ exactly? _ Clean up_? Because right now, the attacks look random as hell and by the time we get notified of an explosion, all there is left to do is clean up the bodies and debris. Even I'm not being pulled in on this, because there are still countless other threats in the world. I'll probably be pulled for a solo mission before the next bombing even occurs. You'll be getting a team of your own to go on missions with."

"Will you and Natasha be part of my team?"

Clint stretched, "When we can, but we answer to Fury, and that means we go on missions either solo or just the two of us whenever the organization needs us to. That means we can't ever fully be part of any team."

Steve nodded and cleared his throat, "Right, of course. I'll see you tomorrow for training. Thanks for the pizza."

Clint nodded and Steve grabbed his things to leave, pausing as Clint called over, "Steve. You gotta find shit to do when you're not working or training. You can't be doing missions every second of every day. If you let this take over your life, it'll kill ya."

Steve bristled, but nodded and quickly took a company car to his apartment. As soon as he'd accepted the job from Fury, he'd been relocated to DC, given an apartment similar to the one he'd had in New York. And in a way, it was better. He still dreamed about Viv and Bucky, but not as often as he had in New York.

Shaking his head, Steve threw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. Once that was started, Steve then headed over to his computer and looked up the Hobbit. There were, in fact, theaters showing a Hobbit movie. Putting that aside, Steve then looked up the books and he ordered himself hardcover editions of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings series. He paid for them in digital form as well since he knew bringing those gorgeous books around while he was travelling wasn't the best option. He also found himself ordering extended editions of the movies.

By the time he was finished shopping, he'd spent hundreds of dollars on books and movies, not just on Tolkien's works, but others as well. It'd be a few days before he got _ everything _ he ordered, but he already had the digital versions of everything he bought. When he'd ordered them, he'd thought for sure he'd be okay reading them immediately. He didn't need much sleep in order to be functional for training, so he had at least a few hours available to read. His ability to speed read meant he could get through a good chunk of the series in one sitting if he wanted to.

But then he read the first line of the Hobbit and he found himself turning his tablet over and heaving in breaths like he was drowning. His eyes welled up with tears and he squeezed them shut, counting backward from one hundred as he struggled to remain calm.

He was always able to remember Vivian's voice, but reading that book had been something else entirely. He could hear that line in her voice. He could feel her fingers running through his hair. He remembered her staying with him through some of his worst bouts of illness, an anchor in the storm. No matter how many times people had told her it was dangerous, she'd been by his side anyway. It'd been love and devotion that he hadn't been sure he'd deserved at the time. Now, looking back, he was certain he'd never deserved her.

She'd worked herself to the bone at the hospital and at that diner and then she'd come home to take care of him. She'd given him and Bucky _ everything _. And she'd done it without a single complaint. She’d loved them with a certainty and a ferocity that still to this day left him breathless.

Bucky had been just as devoted. He worked insane hours for that bastard in the shop and sometimes he picked up hours at the factories. He'd taken care of Steve too. The two of them just constantly giving him more than he deserved. Stumbling back to his room, Steve got into bed and pressed his face into the pillow. Maybe he'd do better the next time he tried. Maybe the next time he remembered their voices, it wouldn't hurt so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to any hardcore GOT lovers, but regardless of my opinions of the quality of the writing in the show, I don't think it's a show Steve would like at all. I don't see Steve enjoying a show filled with incest, sexism, homophobia, rape, torture, and murder.
> 
> Next chapter we're firmly in 2013 and I just want to thank y'all sincerely for sticking with me throughout this story so far. Y'all are amazing and I can't believe any of you read my first fic, let alone stuck around for a ridiculous trilogy like this. No, we're nowhere near done with this fic, I just felt very sappy. lmao


	13. Thirteen: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: i wax nostalgic about The Hobbit and Steve is somewhat angsty about the whole thing.
> 
> Oh and there are spoilers for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey if you've not watched that movie.
> 
> In general, this chapter is a chance for Steve and Clint to become better bros because I love Clint Barton with all my goddamn heart.

It took Steve longer to read the Hobbit than he cared to admit. The book had been so incredibly special to him when he was young. It'd been a present and beyond that, both Viv and Buck had read it to him when he'd get sick. Their voices and the story had soothed him when the idea of getting out of bed was nothing more than a hopeless dream. The story of a dwarf regaining his honor and his home, of Bilbo discovering adventure and courage within him he hadn't known he'd possessed, had been wonderful. 

Even without it being read to him, he'd read it on his own multiple times. Practically memorized it. The first time he'd read _ Riddles in the Dark_, he'd paused after each riddle, toying with the words in his mind as he tried to solve it on his own. Testing himself to see if he too would have been able to get past Gollum. He liked to think he would have been able to figure out how to get past him _ without _resorting to cheating though. He'd even said as much one day when he was feverish. Vivian smiled at him and pushed his sweat soaked hair off his forehead.

_ "I believe you could do anything you set your mind on." _

Steve shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face before he took a deep breath. He was about to just go and lay back in bed when there was a loud knock on his door. Frowning, Steve headed over and peeked through the keyhole, rolling his eyes as he saw Barton standing there wearing purple sunglasses. He opened the door and couldn't help but smile softly as Barton grinned.

"Clint, what are you doing here?"

Steve stared up at his ceiling as Clint pushed past him and headed directly for his kitchen. "Tell me you've made coffee." Before Steve could say anything in response, he heard a soft sound of happiness and then silence.

Moving over, he rolled his eyes as he saw Clint drinking straight from the coffee pot. He seemed to be nearly chugging it, but finally he paused and sighed, "Fuck, you grind your own beans, don't you? This is good shit. I should come over more often."

"Clint," Steve said a little firmer.

"Sorry," Clint sighed. He then took another sip of the coffee. "This coffee is so goddamn good."

"Clint, what are you doing here?" Steve frowned.

Clint smirked and took another sip of coffee before he admitted, "You're still on the last of your training, right? Well, I'm on medical leave for a while."

Steve glanced at the boot on Clint's foot, wanting to ask how that happened, but deciding against it. He instead nodded without saying a word. 

Clint nodded, "Right, so we're both bored out of our skulls. Figured you deserved to do something fun." Clint then paused and finished the pot of coffee before he grinned, "Also, I ran out of coffee this morning and you don't seem like the kind of guy who would ever run out of anything."

"You passed at least three stores on the way here," Steve pointed out.

"True, but then I would have had to go back home, brew myself coffee, and then _ wait to drink it_. Would you really make me do all _ that _?" Clint asked, gesturing with the coffee pot. Steve was about to respond, but then the pot slipped from Clint's hands and shattered on the ground. Clint at least had the decency to look sheepish as he cleared his throat and announced, "I'll replace that."

Holding up a hand and grabbing a dustbin and a broom, Steve carefully cleaned up the glass from around Barton. Once he dumped the shards into the trash, he carefully tied up the bag as he asked, "So other than breaking my coffee pot, what exactly did you have in mind?"

"First Hobbit movie is still in theaters."

Steve frowned and glanced over at Clint, "Are you asking me to go to the movies with you?"

Clint nodded and grinned, "C'mon. I know for a fact you're not doing much from your list yet, so let's knock at least one of them off. Have you even been to a movie theater since you woke up?" Steve shook his head and Clint did a triumphant fist pump before exclaiming, "Take _ that _ Agent Tanner." Steve arched an eyebrow at that, chuckling as Clint groaned, "What? Guy's a total fuckin' kiss ass. Although you probably already know that since the guy's _ obsessed _ with you." 

"He's just…overeager," Steve said, although he secretly agreed with Clint.

Unfortunately it didn't seem like his lie paid off as the other man burst into laughter, "Jesus, you still do not have a poker face. We got to work on that, man. You looked like you just swallowed an entire lemon. I get it. Nobody likes Tanner. It's why he never sees any action. I think the only time he's even held a weapon is during our yearly qualifications training, but otherwise, nada."

Steve nodded, his lips quirking in a small smile, but he made an attempt to seem at least somewhat professional. Clint seemed to have switched focus and he nodded to the winter coat hung by the door as he insisted, "C'mon. Let's go."

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat and gloves, slipping them on while Clint bounced by the door like an excitable dog. As soon as Steve was ready to go, they were out the door and walking. Clint seemed to take this as his chance to explain everything they passed in great detail. Although from the way Clint described the city, it seemed like he'd managed to get himself into some ridiculous bit of trouble wherever he went. Hell, he seemed to have gotten into more fist fights than even Steve had when he was growing up.

Steve was genuinely impressed.

Once they got to the theater itself, Steve found himself almost hunching in on himself. There were dozens of people laughing and talking loudly as they waited in line and once they got to the front, the prices nearly made him swoon. He'd started getting used to other price differences, but something about the movie prices seemed even higher. Before he could even offer to pay, Clint paid for both their tickets and handed him one. "Don't even think about paying me back, Cap. The only reward I need is the ability to rub this moment in Tanner's face."

"Go for it."

Steve chuckled as Clint cheered softly under his breath before making a beeline for the concession stand. Luckily the line wasn't very long, but then Steve found himself staring in shock as Clint rapidly ordered himself a large soda, a large bucket of popcorn and three different types of candy. Steve purposely didn't even look at the total when it was read out, but then grinned as Clint then handed him everything and announced, "Go get us some good seats. I have to piss."

Nodding, Steve headed into the theater and did as he was asked, more than a little surprised by how comfortable the seats were. A couple people glanced at him curiously, but mostly people just kept to themselves as ads began playing in front of him. The screen itself was huge and Steve marveled at how good just…everything looked.

"There's a seat warmer right there," Clint whispered as he sat next to him. Steve pressed the buttons Clint pointed to and his eyes widened as the seat did, in fact, heat up. "Fuckin' sweet, isn't it? Love that. Oh and you can share my snacks if you want. Pretty sure I'm not going to catch anything from you."

Steve smiled and ate some of the popcorn, settling in as the ads switched to trailers for other movies. It was amazing how high quality even trailers were. Some of them felt like miniature movies all unto themselves. He thought he would be prepared for the actual movie, but then he was proven wrong as it started. It was _ gorgeous_. He found himself nearly in tears at just how perfect the hobbit hole look. Every detail of the world already was beyond his wildest dreams.

He couldn't tell what parts of it were real and what parts of it were fake. It all just felt like someone had taken a camera directly into Middle Earth and just _ shown him _ what it was like. The dwarves all looked wonderful. Bilbo and Gandalf looked wonderful. And while quickly on Steve could tell differences between the movie and the book, he was almost glad that it was like that. Reading the book had been excruciating, but this felt separate. It was new. And while he still wished he could share this moment with Viv and Bucky, there was less ache along with that wish. Less of his body rebelling against the idea of it being done by anyone but them.

"Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I've found. I've found it is…the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and of love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it is because I am afraid…and he gives me courage."

Steve bit down on his knuckles as Gandalf spoke, tears filling his eyes. This. This was why he loved Middle Earth. It was why when he'd been growing up, he'd found his fictional heroes in Bilbo and Gandalf, people who believed in goodness and light. Bilbo hadn't been a great hero when he'd walked out of his hobbit hole, but he'd done _ great things_. And Gandalf had seen greatness in Bilbo long before Bilbo had. Bilbo had _ earned _ his status along that journey to help strangers. And he'd done it without stature or malice.

Steve smiled and sat further forward in his seat, eager to see every single second of action. He had to see the elves fighting, the dwarves battling, and the eagles. _ The eagles_. Steve found himself crying yet again as the eagles rescued the group from the brink of death, the music perfect and startlingly beautiful. It all felt like a wonderful dream. He choked on a cry as Thorin hugged Bilbo, accepting him as a valuable member of the group. His cheeks tinged red as Clint glanced over at him and grinned around a mouthful of popcorn.

He glanced away from Clint and back at the screen as a bird flew off toward the lonely mountains. The camera followed the bird all the way there, up until it began tapping food upon the rocks to break it open. The screen then showed the inside, showed a palace filled with piles of gold. As the gold shifted, _ Smaug the dragon _ was revealed, and Steve gasped as it opened its eye. Clint snorted at that, and Steve sent him a pointed stare as the credits began to roll.

"Sorry," Clint grinned. "It was just too funny hearing someone react to CGI for the first time. God. You think that shit looks real, don't you?"

Steve blushed, but nodded, and then leaned close and asked quietly, "Are we able to buy the music from the movie?"

"Hell yeah!" Clint grinned. "Oh this is great. I'll introduce you to the entirely of music from Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Oh and we're definitely having a Lord of the Rings marathon after this. We're going to need an entire weekend."

"An entire weekend?"

"Well yeah, we're not watching the theatrical versions. That's for the weak. We're watching extended editions or nothing. You're buying me more coffee."

"You mean after you buy me a new coffee pot?" Steve grinned.

Clint's eyes widened, "Shit, I forgot about that."

Steve laughed, but then nodded to the empty packages, "Do you always get this much food when you go to the movies?"

Clint shook his head, "Nah. I figured I'd give you a variety and a lot of it. Which is good, I don't even think you noticed that you'd eaten most of that popcorn as you watched. Were too mesmerized by all this newfangled technology."

Steve rolled his eyes and helped gather everything up before taking it to the trash. Steve then waited in the lobby, keeping his head low as Clint took another bathroom break. Once that was done, Clint came, nudging him and announcing, "All right, so they're definitely going to put you on active duty by next month and that means either next weekend or the weekend after that, I'm bringing over the Lord of the Rings trilogy and that's what we're doing. No excuses."

"Do I need to read the books first?" Steve asked curiously as they headed back toward his apartment.

Clint scoffed, "Hell no. I sure as fuck haven't read those. Fuckin' things were written by a linguist. I don't have the kind of attention span to read over a thousand pages."

"But you said it'll take an entire weekend to watch the movies," Steve pointed out.

Clint sighed, "Reading and watching are two different things, Rogers. Although Romanoff's a fuckin' nerd and she reads the books. She's also willingly read _ and reread _ Tolstoy's work, _ in Russian and in English_, so there's no accounting for taste."

Steve smiled at that, shaking his head as Clint snapped his fingers and bounced excitedly, rubbing his hands together before he ran off, yelping slightly from his injured foot. Steve followed easily, although mostly stuck to walking. He definitely needed to make sure Clint had less caffeine and sugar next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my fellow Americans enjoyed Thanksgiving. I had a nice day off. It was fun.
> 
> I know at least a few of you are enjoying my rendition of the chaotic wonder that is Clint Barton, and I hope that's still true, and just true in general for all of you. I adore him.


	14. Fourteen: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: author isn't great with military procedures, sexist comments from Rumlow, incredibly vague references to IM3, extrajudicial killing from shield agents happens, and the last paragraph is a very short description of Steve suffering from PTSD

Steve frowned as he showed up at the location that had been texted to him and was immediately handed a uniform. This one at least seemed to have a better design than the one he'd worn in the Chitauri invasion. The man who handed it to him then rushed off, leaving Steve to get changed in an odd locker room of sorts. Once he was out, he spotted Natasha lounging against a wall, staring at her nails with a bored expression. Her outfit was the same one as she'd worn during the invasion, and he was grateful when she motioned him over.

"Romanoff."

"Rogers," Natasha replied with a smirk.

Steve smiled softly and then nodded to the armed men near them and asked, "Do you know why we're here or who they are?"

"Yep, that's your team, Captain," Natasha said, standing up straighter although looking far from deferential.

"Is this a dry run or is this--"

"This is it. Powers that be say we don't have time to do party games and get to know each other. You're needed in the field _ now_."

"I at least get to know the names of the people I'm working with?"

Natasha nodded and began pointing at the members, "Rumlow and Rollins will be the ones you'll work with the most. They've got the most experience with close quarters combat. Almost led this team before you came along so don't be surprised if there's a little bit of resistance. Behind them are Jones, Davis, Dixon, Johnson, Williams, Martin, Peterson and Young. Generally your team will have as many members as are needed to accomplish the task at hand. That may mean you'll be working with people you've never worked with before. The only two members of your team that will remain constant are Rumlow and Rollins, which means you're going to delegate a lot to them. Barton and I will join in whenever we can."

Steve nodded, not really sure how he felt about that. The Howling Commandos had been a set team. He'd known those men almost as well as he'd known himself, so at any given time he'd known exactly who would be good at what task and what they would need. He also trusted them with his life. This team seemed like it was going to be a constant change.

"What's the mission?"

Natasha held out a folder and teased, "This time, you can actually read it."

Rolling his eyes, Steve took the folder and glanced over it, frowning at the information. They had strong information that AIM was planning an attack and the US government wanted the terrorists either captured or eliminated before they could follow through with their plan. They also wanted this mission to be kept _ beyond _ secret to keep Stark from showing up and drawing attention to it. After all, Stark had a _ history _with AIM technology. Chances were, even with Aldrich Killian being very dead, Stark still wouldn't be able to stop himself from showing up and making a spectacle of the rest of the organization.

Glancing over at Natasha, Steve asked, "Think you can get past this place's security?" When Natasha just stared at him, Steve sighed, "Right. Of course you can. Do you need any help doing it?"

Natasha shook her head, and before Steve could ask anything else, Rumlow and Rollins approached. Rollins walked slightly behind the man and Steve could already tell that it would become a problem if Rumlow didn't step in line since it was clear that wherever he went, Rollins followed.

"It's an honor to meet you, _ sir_," Rumlow said, a slight tinge of _ something _ on his voice as he saluted. Rollins followed suit.

Steve saluted back, feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable as he nodded, "At ease. Were your men told about a mission?"

Rumlow nodded, "Yes, sir. We're waiting on your orders, sir."

"I tend to run my teams with a little less structure, so I don't require anyone to call me sir, but I expect everyone to do their jobs when they need to be done. Understood?" Steve asked, glancing between the two men.

Rumlow grinned, "We can do that."

Steve nodded and said, "Good, then gather everyone up and head to the conference room. Debrief in ten."

"Understood."

Exchanging a glance with Natasha as Rumlow and Rollins left, Steve quickly read through the information a second time before he carefully asked, "You know anything that wasn't put in this?"

Natasha leaned closer to the screen and then nodded, "Aldrich Killian was the face of AIM and was, of course, the mind behind the failed Extremis program, but rumor has it that he had a silent partner, someone who was even more skilled with science and technology than he was. After Killian died, AIM didn't disappear, but rather refocused. The company's been biding its time, building up a better reputation while under the guidance of George Tarleton. Supposedly there's a program he's been working on. Can't get much information on it, but we do know it's called M.O.D.O.K."

"What does that stand for?" Steve asked quietly.

"Not listed," Natasha admitted. "As far as we know, that program could be anything from a better way to do their taxes to the new ultimate killing machine. We just don't know."

"Do you think he'll show at the mission?"

Natasha shrugged, "No one thinks so. He's only been mentioned in passing in memos, not actually seen on site."

"Do we have orders on what to do if he shows up?" Steve asked curiously.

"Killing him is the absolute last resort until we know his end goal. They want him alive."

Steve nodded and then headed into the room where the team was waiting. Projecting images onto the board, Steve got everyone's attention before he announced, "As you all well know, we're here to stop an imminent threat to our country. However, due to some unknown variables, killing will be something we need to avoid if possible. The man pictured on screen is named George Tarleton. He is to be captured alive unless there is no way to do so. Preferably those closest to him would also be captured alive. They need to be questioned."

Everyone nodded and so Steve paused and then continued, "Romanoff is in charge of infiltrating the base and disabling their security. She will be going in solo because stealth is key here. There are three main ways to enter or exit the building. We'll split up into teams of three to cover each exit and once the security is down, we'll all enter at once. The goal is still stealth as much as possible, so this is a soft entry. Rumlow will lead Williams and Martin on the south entrance, Rollins will have Dixon and Johnson on the west. I'll handle the North with Peterson and Young. Jones and Davis will be piloting. We're expected to immediately be in the air as soon as the plane is loaded up with any prisoners we bring. Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads and Steve nodded, "Good. Now let's go. We need to be in the air in thirty."

Jones and Davis immediately got out, grabbing their bags and heading to the plane. Steve headed out as well, pausing as he was stopped by Rumlow. Everyone else left and Steve stared at the man as he grinned, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cap."

"Well, you have been with this team longer than I have, and your file says you're the man for the job," Steve said.

"We both know files can lie," Rumlow said with a smirk.

Brows furrowing, Steve glanced at him curiously before he cautiously said, "True, but either you prove your file right or you prove your file wrong. Either way, you get a fair chance."

Steve then started to walk away, his teeth gritting as Rumlow walked beside him and teased, "Just between us, it was Romanoff that told you, right?" Steve didn't answer, but Rumlow seemed to have decided it was an agreement as he snorted, "Hey, you dating her? I heard she's in a relationship with someone, but she keeps it pretty close to the chest."

Steve continued to not say anything, staring straight ahead. Part of him bristled as Rumlow laughed, "Or maybe you aren't dating her. Maybe you just _ wanna _ date her. Can't blame you. There's a girl back home I got my eyes on. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. _ Amazing _ body. She's got eyes for someone else, a couple of 'em if you know what I mean, but I bet she's just dynamite in bed. Probably wouldn't take much convincing to get her to just give in if we were alone. Just got to--"

"Agent," Steve interrupted, struggling to keep his anger in check. "I suggest you focus on the mission at hand. This is also your reminder that there is a code of conduct here and you will be held to it. If you cannot follow that code of conduct, then I will find someone else to lead your team. _ Do you understand_?"

Rumlow glared, but nodded, "Yes, sir."

Rumlow stormed off, and Steve swallowed hard, taking a moment to slip somewhere private and chug some water. Once he finished, he shoved the bottle back into his locker and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the cool metal while reminding himself that the woman Rumlow talked about wasn't Viv. Turning around and leaning against the locker, Steve rubbed his hands across his face and took a deep breath. No, Rumlow wasn't talking about Vivian, but it also didn't matter. Rumlow shouldn't have talked about _ anyone _ like that. He wasn't sure how their last commanding officer had handled the team, but Steve made a vow that he'd make it clear that behavior like that wouldn't be tolerated. Rumlow was getting one shot to clean up his attitude and then he was going to get written up.

Shaking his head and putting his helmet on, Steve grabbed his shield and headed onto the plane. He focused on the planet itself, listening to Jones and Davis begin the pre-flight checklist. They murmured quietly to each other and Steve watched as the rest of the team entered. Natasha stood next to him, watching the others enter as well, but didn't say a word. Rumlow quickly followed, standing across from them and just smirking. The rest of the men looked between Rumlow and himself, seeming unsure of who to follow. Steve hoped that it wouldn't become a problem.

"Captain, we're ready."

Steve did a quick double check of the people on board before he nodded before he announced, "Everyone strap in for take-off."

Everyone did as they were told and Steve forced himself to remain calm and near stoic as the plane began racing forward before lifting up. His ears popped and he worked his jaw, swallowing repeatedly to pop his ears. Once they reached altitude, Steve got up and walked around the plane. There were plenty of spots to strap in prisoners. Grabbing a parachute, Steve strapped it on, carefully checking the buckles before he made sure everyone else had theirs.

The others were having quiet conversations, other than Natasha who was sitting quietly by herself. Heading over to her side, Steve sat next to her and asked, "Barton upset he's not on this one?"

Natasha smirked, "Yes and no. He's probably binge watching some dumb show in his underwear."

Steve chuckled at that and nodded, ignoring the urge to pace. He'd been on missions before. He'd even parachuted into missions before. Nothing about this was something completely outside his realm of knowledge, so he wasn't sure why he was this nervous. Or maybe it wasn't nervousness. Maybe it was just anticipation.

"We're approaching the drop site."

Steve nodded, heading toward the back as the door opened. Everyone else got up and then one by one they jumped out of the plane. The wind whistled around him, battering at him as he plunged toward the earth. He pulled the cord on his parachute and gently landed on the ground nearby, the others following. As soon as he got his parachute off, he held up a hand and they waited as Natasha went ahead.

Part of him was worried, but he also knew that she knew what she was doing. It took fifteen minutes for the signal to be given, but then they all moved at once. Peterson and Young were deliberate and quiet and Steve was glad to have them on his side as they methodically knocked out the different agents they came across, binding their hands and feet before moving on.

Once they reached the main room, it was a whole different story as he found Rumlow standing over a corpse. Rollins was there as well. Moving forward, Steve sighed as he saw that the person they'd killed was George Tarleton.

"What happened?" Steve demanded.

"Rumlow saved my life, sir," Rollins insisted, staring straight at him. "Tarleton had a weapon pulled, had it aimed at my head. There was no time to disarm him, so Rumlow shot him."

Steve sighed, "You'll both fill out reports once we get back to headquarters. You'll complete them _ today_."

"Yes, sir," they both recited.

Nodding, Steve then frowned as Rumlow asked, "Do we have permission to gather up intelligence in this room to bring back to headquarters?"

Steve was about to respond when Natasha entered the room and announced, "I can do that. Don't you boys need to be helping gather up our prisoners? There sure were a lot of those."

Rumlow narrowed his eyes, and Steve sighed, stepping between the two and announcing, "Rumlow, Rollins, you'll be doing a final sweep to make sure we didn't miss anyone. After that, help gather up the prisoners. Natasha is going to evaluate the intelligence here to determine if a secondary tech team needs to be sent into this site. Unless something changes, I want wheels up in no less than an hour. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," all three of them said.

Steve watched as Rumlow and Rollins left and he then turned toward Natasha, "Do you think we should get a secondary tech team out here just in case?"

Natasha nodded, "I suggest clearing the place of hostiles first, but there's a lot of tech here that requires specialized equipment that I did not bring with me into the field. And for good reason. The tech is bulky, heavy, and expensive. The techs will have their own security and will probably be able to arrive within an hour once I call them."

"I need you to stay behind once we leave, guard the tech until the secondary team arrives."

"Understood," Natasha nodded.

Steve headed out, gathering prisoners and leading them to the roof where the plane had landed. Some of the people cried as they were strapped into their seats and for a moment Steve faltered. Shaking his head, he then made himself keep going. Everything seemed to slip together though. The place being announced as cleared. Finishing loading everyone up. Flying off. Even flying back, filling out his reports, and then going home just felt like a blur. Once he was home, he tried cooking, but then all he could smell was the blood from that body and he had to throw everything he'd been cooking. He force fed himself broth and then curled up into his bed, hoping beyond hope that he hadn't made the wrong decision by joining SHIELD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I goddamn hate Rumlow and Rollins? Because I hate them and just every time I have to have Steve interact with them, I remember how a section of this fandom finds them attractive or ships the two together or has them be the ex's of Steve or Bucky. I find it baffling.
> 
> So, possibly repeating myself, but I want to make it clear that neither Rumlow or Rollins are members of the LGBT+ community in my fic. They are cishet incels, they were born cishet incels, and they will die cishet incels, and only their 4chan threads will be around to mourn them.


	15. Fifteen: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Brock Rumlow is an entitled creep, Vivian presents her argument as to why hydra = nazis, Vivian kills people, and Vivian is sealed into a coffin
> 
> Just to be clear: Brock Rumlow has the attitudes and beliefs of an entitled creep, but has never and will never be able to act on this. None of this is commentary on real life victims of creeps like him. It is just my absolute refusal to write out assault or rape that means he will never succeed. Vivian has the power of God and anime on her side with this.
> 
> Also, the last paragraph and sentence absolutely is Vivian getting shut into a coffin to spend an entire international flight in. It's not necessary for the plot, so if you have to skip it, I understand.

"What are we going to tell people if they ask what we are?"

Vivian glanced away from the window over to Rumlow, an eyebrow raised as he stared at her. Rolling her eyes and glancing back out the window, she sighed before she asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If someone sees us together. What's our cover story?"

"We're in Budapest, not outer space. They've seen white people before. Also, what imaginary reality are you living in where someone's going to see two people near each other and demand an explanation for what's going on there?"

Brock glared, "We might have to talk to people."

Vivian sighed and peered through her binoculars to check to see if Hawkeye and Black Widow had left their hotel yet. "We're here doing surveillance. And honestly, no one gives a shit why we're tourists here. As long as our money is good, no one needs an explanation, but I'm guessing you only brought this up because you have some astounding idea."

"I think we should be a married couple. It'll be--"

Vivian burst into laughter, interrupting Brock and causing him to glare. Her laughter grew louder the more she thought about it, and her stomach began to hurt. The more Brock glared, the harder she laughed until she finally was able to pull herself together. Wiping away tears, she inhaled sharply and then let it out slowly before she shook her head, "God, that was funny."

"I wasn't joking."

"Oh, I'm sure you weren't, and that's what makes it even funnier."

"What's so funny about the two of us together?"

"I do not fuck or date Nazis," Vivian announced with a grin.

"I'm not a Nazi," Brock snarled. "Hydra isn't a Nazi organization."

"Yes, they are," Vivian insisted, turning toward him. "I'll speak slowly, because you seem incredibly dumb, but let's play a game here. Let's say there are three people in a room with you. One thinks you deserve to die, one sympathizes with the person who thinks you should die, and the last one doesn't give a flying fuck about the fact that the first person wants you to die because they have an alliance with the person who wants you to die. In that room, how many people are your enemy?"

Brock grit his teeth and turned away and Vivian grinned, "C'mon, answer the question. It's a simple math problem. Children could figure it out. Do you have a single person on your side in that room, Rumlow?"

"No," Brock snapped.

"Do you have a single person in there who's even someone you wouldn't consider an enemy?" Vivian grinned.

"_No_," Brock shouted.

"Now you know why Hydra members are Nazis, why you're a Nazi. Because you and the rest of your garbage organization decided years ago that the safety and the rights of entire groups of people don't fucking matter as long as your group ends up on top. You decided that fascists, white supremacists, Nazis, homophobes, transphobes, whatever waste of fucking space groups you could get your hands on really, were all just fine as long as they helped you along."

"We deserve to be in charge."

"_You deserve nothing_," Vivian snapped. "Nothing. Not power, not money, and certainly not an ounce of consideration. Everything in this whole universe dies, and one day Hydra will finally die. It'll die and you'll have to either die with it or learn to have some goddamn critical thinking skills of your own. I know which one I think will happen to you first, but hey, maybe a miracle will happen."

Brock glared and stormed out of the room, leaving Vivian to still keep an eye on the hotel across the street. They were supposed to be keeping an eye on Barton and Romanoff to make sure they didn't stray too close to the Hydra agents working a deal nearby, but Vivian was positive that Rumlow had gotten it into his head that he could turn the whole scenario into a porno when he'd so 'graciously' volunteered to supervise her on the mission. She wasn't sure where he'd gotten the idea since she'd never shown him anything other than contempt. She then reminded herself that it had nothing to do with who she was as a person nor did it have anything to do with anything she'd ever done. This was about power and entitlement.

Brock was back from his temper tantrum after about half an hour, but Vivian ignored him. There still wasn't a sign of either of their targets, but that was to be expected. If they knew anything about anything then they probably wouldn't be heading toward their destination until further in the afternoon when the amount of staff on hand was limited.

"You need me for this mission."

"Actually, I really don't. For one, you don't even speak Hungarian, which is the only reason we have to speak English here."

"How many fuckin' languages do you speak anyway?"

"I speak twenty-six languages so far, and I learn more when it's required. I also know Morse code and braille."

Vivian wasn't sure why she felt the need to leave off how she knew sign language, but she did. Rumlow scoffed and moved closer to her and insisted, "No way you speak that many languages."

"I'm a polyglot and the number of languages I speak is impressive, but not record breaking by any means. Ziad Fazah is confirmed to be able to speak 58 languages, but he claims 59."

"What the fuck is the point of that?" Brock scoffed.

"He claims his ability is a gift from God, and maybe he's right. Regardless, being able to communicate with people, especially that many people, is both culturally and financially rewarding. It means he can go almost anywhere," Vivian said.

"Sounds like a waste of fuckin' time," Brock shrugged. "English is the dominant language anyway."

Vivian snorted at that, shaking her head. She decided to pick her battles and ignore a comment that stupid. Luckily, she didn't need to as she spotted their targets leaving their hotel. Grabbing her bag, Vivian stood up and announced, "Hawkeye and Black Widow are on the move. Let's go."

Brock glared, but the two of them left the place. Vivian tucked her newly dyed brown hair behind her ears as they headed down to the street. Clint and Natasha were walking very close to each other, periodically leaning close and whispering into each other's ears.

"See? _ They're _ pretending to be in a relationship," Brock grumbled.

Vivian was pretty sure that they were actually being honest with their behavior. Although it had been several years since she'd seen Natalia fake anything, so there was a chance that her tells were no longer the same as they were before.

"Did you call ahead and make sure everyone knows what they're supposed to do?" Vivian asked carefully.

Brock nodded, "Yeah. Data's being secured. Those two won't find anything even if they look."

"And the personnel?"

"Would die before they revealed anything."

"Good to know," Vivian said as she deftly sidestepped Brock's hand. He'd made an attempt to wrap an arm around her waist, and she sent him a pointed stare before she sped up slightly. They were still at a good distance from the agents on top of the fact that they were just walking along a fairly busy path. Chances of them being noticed actually following were slim.

They were getting to a part where it would be more noticeable if they continued following, so Vivian crossed the street and headed through an alley behind buildings. Rumlow followed, glaring at her as he said, "What are you doing? We're going to lose them!"

"How the hell would we lose them when we know exactly where they're headed?"

"This isn't the right way."

"Holy shit, Rumlow. Did you look at the map at all? We're literally still going in the same direction we were before, but without being visible to our targets."

"What if they meet with someone along the way?"

"If you want to go back and risk getting spotted, then feel free to duck back down the next alley and go out in the open. I'm staying on this path."

A few moments later, Vivian found herself blessedly alone and she sped up, relieved she didn't have to keep slowing herself down for that idiot. The truth was that she wanted to make it to the location not just before Black Widow and Hawkeye, but also before Rumlow. Last thing she wanted was that moron controlling the situation. He'd probably just screw everything up.

She wasn't sure how much of a head start she'd given herself by the time she reached the location, but she glared as several of the agents leered at her. Moving past them, she headed straight for the office of the man in charge, not waiting for him to say anything as she demanded, "I need to know now that your staff is prepared for Black Widow and Hawkeye."

"I do not answer to you," the man said with a sneer.

Rolling her eyes, Vivian quickly slammed the man down onto his desk, twisting his arm behind his back, "The fact that even I have more authority and autonomy within this organization than you do should be genuinely embarrassing for you, but you'd need to actually have a concept of shame for that to be the case. And if you had that, you wouldn't be working this job to begin with, so let's skip your bullshit posturing and get your agents ready."

The man grit his teeth, glaring at her while he insisted, "I already hid all of the relevant data, just like _ he _ suggested. We're _ loyal _to the cause. We would never betray it."

Vivian did her best to keep the disgust off of her face, but then nodded to the wall as she said, "You still have hidden monitors in the walls?"

He nodded and Vivian reached under the lip of the desk, pressing a button to reveal several monitors. Pictures on the wall had flipped to reveal them and she sighed. It really was the most melodramatic and unnecessary thing to have in the office, probably cost more than it needed to just so he could feel like some real life supervillain.

As the screens flickered to life, she saw that Rumlow was already in position as Romanoff and Barton began their sweep of the building.

"Can I have my arm back now?"

Vivian nodded and released the man, not caring about him at all as she walked the two work. They were like ghosts as they moved throughout the place. Natasha had used a program on the security system. She believed she'd looped it all, and her gear would tell her that she had done that, but truthfully only the recordings were looped. A secondary camera system was still in play giving a live feed that wasn't recording. It was hidden behind multiple firewalls, so if Natasha wasn't strictly looking for it, she wouldn't have known it. And Vivian knew for a fact that the intel she'd been given said the place didn't have anywhere near that kind of security.

"Any chance this room is on the blueprints at all?" Vivian asked.

The man shook his head, "None that are public. Hydra has the only complete copy. _ He _ is the only one with access to it."

Vivian nodded and kept an eye on the scene outside the room. She became instantly annoyed as she spotted agents with weapons drawn. Turning toward the man, she pointed to the screen, "What the fuck are they doing?"

"They are prepared for the invaders," he said simply.

"You _ idiot_," Vivian snarled. "Your orders are to let them inspect this place and find _ nothing _."

"Things change," he shrugged, pulling a gun.

Before the man could get a shot off, Vivian grabbed his wrist and twisted the gun out of his hand. Within seconds, she pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed out onto the wall behind him, and she grabbed his hand, using it to unlock the biometrics on the computer. Shoving him aside, she then looked through the data on the computer to find one of the emergency protocols before initiating it. The protocol specifically sent high value Hydra information to Hydra specifically while making sure everything that remained could and would be linked to a rival terrorist organization.

As the program was initiating, Vivian could see people popping out and attacking Barton and Romanoff. She could also see Rumlow sitting back and watching the carnage with an odd glint in his eyes. The man always did get disgustingly excited when he saw people get hurt. When she glanced back at the program, she saw a notification that it was done, so she put the room on a timer for a lockdown mode before slipping out. She knew she'd have to be extra careful as she navigated the halls, taking out targets one by one. Her ears were ringing, and she forced herself to remember that she was helping Barton and Romanoff. She was helping them.

After she'd killed another person, leaving their body in the hallway, Vivian winced as she was pulled into a room and then pressed against a door. Shoving the person away, Vivian raised her weapon only to then grit her teeth and have to force herself not to fire as she saw Rumlow glaring at her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed.

"Barton and Romanoff are two of the best agents that SHIELD has. If they die here on some goddamn milk run then there's going to be an investigation. Fury will insist on it. Already they're going to be looking into this place because this place wasn't supposed to be this heavily armed. There weren't supposed to be fighters."

"You only give a shit because you trained her," Rumlow said with a sneer.

Vivian rolled her eyes and lowered the weapon, "You're an idiot. I established emergency protocols in the main office, so we need to get out of here. They'll be calling a cleanup crew for here and we don't want to be here when they do a sweep."

"I'll be reporting this."

"Have fun with that."

"You should be terrified."

Vivian placed a hand over her chest and gasped, "Oh god. You're right. Paperwork? _ Actual paperwork_? God, you must petrified. After all, you're barely literate, so isn't this basically your archnemesis?"

"_Shut the fuck up_."

Vivian cackled, wiping her prints off the gun before tossing it and then sighing, "All right, let's go."

Rumlow shook his head, but opened up the window and climbed out. Vivian followed, jumping past his arms to avoid being touched by him in any way. Turning her coat inside out (it was reversible) to hide any stray blood splatter that she'd accrued through her mini rampage, Vivian then headed to a safe vantage point and waited. Rumow seemed impatient, but didn't say anything. She waited there until she saw Barton come out of the building and begin patrolling.

"Looks like at least one survived," Rumlow said, sounding disappointed.

Vivian nodded, deciding not to comment. They waited there for a good hour before the extraction team arrived. She wasn't surprised when Tanner found them, looking more than a little nervous.

"Agent Rumlow, sir, you're to finish up the mission and go to the normal extraction point. Hecate is to come with me."

Vivian could _ see _ the sweat slipping down Tanner's neck and she stood up, moving closer to him. He flinched, backing up, and she rolled her eyes, "Lead the way."

He nodded and Vivian followed, flipping off Rumlow as she left. She found herself wanting to laugh though as she was led to a series of coffins. Before he could say anything, Vivian held up a hand and said, "Just point to the one I'm supposed to ride in."

Tanner pointed to a coffin and Vivian took her coat off, tossing it at him before she climbed in. She was lying there in the coffin, glaring as the top was closed. It wasn't her first time being sealed into a coffin, not even for a lengthy international flight. She found herself laughing into the dark confines of the coffin as she realized that she actually preferred being buried alive to being anywhere near Brock Rumlow.

It was going to be fun telling him that little revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate Brock Rumlow so much. He's a gross cishet sadist.
> 
> I really struggled with what the Budapest mission referenced by Natasha should be until I realized that the chances of the MCU actually having a real, definitive idea of what happened there is almost zilch. Most likely it was a throwaway line to establish them as partners and nothing else. Beyond that, there are a lot of theories that Natasha was testing Barton by comparing New York to Budapest, to see if he would know the current mission was nothing like that one.
> 
> And that's a whole lot of explanation for why I made up this entire fucking mission out of whole cloth and refuse to apologize for doing so.


	16. Sixteen: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: risky sexual behavior due to ptsd (specifically in the form of unsafe oral sex with a stranger), vomiting, and having a panic attack
> 
> Also, Steve is going to try for more than he's ready for after the panic attack, but is stopped.

Steve could feel the gazes of his teammates on him as he headed into the locker room after a difficult mission. The plan had been to go in quietly and just secure the enemy. It was supposed to go even smoother than the original mission he'd been on, but somehow it had all gone to shit. Someone had triggered an alarm and then it just…turned into a bloodbath. Bullets, grenades, blades, and even some fire had been used to just rip people apart. It reminded him of the war. He scrubbed himself clean, desperate to have something else to think about. Once he was dressed, he left the locker room before anyone could say anything to him. He then wrote out his report as best as he could, but he didn't remember writing it. He handed it in and just left. He walked right past Clint and Natasha and even past the car waiting for him and just kept walking. 

He walked for miles and let the cool night air nip at his skin. He was wearing jeans, t-shirt, and a leather jacket, which was fine for the cool spring air, but he still felt naked. He still wasn't used to clothing pressing this tightly against him, almost like a second skin. The boots he'd chosen to wear with the outfit also weren't the greatest for walking long distances.

He wasn't even sure where he was walking, but then he realized he could hear music pumping from inside the club. Running his fingers through his hair, Steve headed up to where a man was standing by the door. The man looked him up and down with a leer. He said a number for the cover charge and Steve fished some cash out of his wallet before handing it over. His hand got stamped and he headed into the club, wincing at how much louder it got. Lights were flashing and the dance floor was packed.

Moving into the crowd, Steve shook his head, feeling disoriented as he could feel hands drag over his back. One more daring person even ran a hand along his ass. He kept moving, reaching close to the center of the dance floor before a slightly shorter man backed up into him. He stretched, reaching an arm back and gripping at the back of Steve's neck. Steve blushed, for a moment worrying about what people would think before he looked around and realized this just _ was _ a gay club. Tilting his head down so the shorter man could get a better grip on his neck, Steve grabbed hold of his hips and mimicked the movements he saw around him, rolling his hips against the man and closing his eyes at how good it all felt.

The man holding onto him turned around and Steve shivered as he was pulled down and kissed. It was a passionate kiss, and he slipped his tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss as the other man put a hand between them and began rubbing against the zipper of Steve's jeans. Suddenly the kiss ended and Steve was then led through the crowd. As they got out of the dance floor and into a hallway, Steve was able to see more of the man's features without neon lights flashing in his eyes. The man was tall and lean. His face was slender and his eyes were a pale blue that contrasted with his dark hair. 

"Name's Mark," the man grinned over his shoulder.

"Grant," Steve replied, letting Mark lead him into an empty bathroom and then into the handicap stall. Once they were in the stall, Mark locked the door and Steve asked, "Is it okay for us to be doing this here?"

Mark laughed as he pulled Steve forward by his belt loops, "Jesus, you're adorable. Yeah, it's okay for us to be here. A lot better than going out back, and besides, I don't want to wait."

Steve could feel his heart pounding in his throat as Mark unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans before shoving them down. Leaning back against the wall, Steve blushed as Mark shoved down his boxers and groaned, "Fuck, you're huge."

Mark sank to his knees and Steve tilted his head back, his eyes slipping shut as Mark wrapped a hand around him. It'd been so long since he'd been just _ touched _ by another person. A low curse escaped from his lips as Mark dragged his tongue along Steve's cock. Steve kept one hand braced against the wall and brought his other hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as Mark took him into his mouth. It took all of his concentration to not just buck forward, to let him just bob casually. Steve knew what it was like to nearly choke during oral, and he wasn't interested in making this other man go through it.

Steve's mind wandered, and he found himself picturing Vivian and Bucky, picturing those lazy days where they'd just spend hours kissing and touching each other, not willing to let go or to do anything else. The days had been far and few between, but when they'd gotten one, they'd guarded it with almost an obsession. He remembered what it would be like for Bucky to crawl between his legs and swallow him down, sucking him until he nearly screamed. Nails dragged down his thighs had Steve startling out of his daydream for just a second, but then his orgasm swept over him and he groaned.

Gasping for air and opening his eyes, he shivered as he saw Mark massaging his jaw. Flecks of cum were all over his mouth and Steve blushed bright red, shivering as Mark gave a light cough and laughed, "Shit, you're like a goddamn fire hose. Give a guy a little warning."

Steve was about to apologize as he tucked himself back into his jeans, zipping up, but then he let himself get pushed down to his knees. Mark undid his own jeans and Steve immediately returned the favor. This was something he could do. This was something he knew, something that hadn't changed. Mark didn't bother stifling his moans, the sound filling the room. Steve shivered though as hands reached into his hair and tugged. Mark began thrusting slightly and Steve had to adjust to keep up.

The sound of his heart felt unbearably loud, pounding in his ears as he could feel his pulse violently rise in his throat. A rolling paranoia was gripping its claws into his stomach as he feared someone walking into the bathroom and hearing him like this, figuring out it was him on his knees. He wondered how much money someone would make, selling the story of how Captain America was a cocksucker. He wondered how quickly his entire life would fall apart if people knew what he was. He wondered what people would say and do if they saw him on his knees in this filthy bathroom, swallowing the cum of a stranger. He wondered what Viv or Bucky would think of him for doing this.

"Shit, you're really fucking good at that," Mark panted after he finished.

Steve muttered his gratitude as he wiped his mouth and stood up. Mark carefully tucked himself into his pants and then winked. He said something else, but Steve couldn't hear him. He just nodded as Mark talked and then watched him leave. The feeling of his heart racing wasn't going down, and he felt nausea build in him until he leaned over the toilet and vomited.

He wiped his mouth with toilet paper after he was done and then left, nearly toppling over as the sound of the club felt overwhelming in a way it hadn't before. It seemed to pierce through to his bones, rattling them around in him. He feared they'd slip right out of his skin, and he moved faster. Every touch to his arms or his back felt like razors and he moved faster, getting out of the club as fast as he could before he gasped for air. He could faintly hear the bouncer ask him something, probably if he was okay, but he just bolted. He ran. He ran down the street and just kept running.

He needed to be home.

He made it to his apartment and Clint was already there, leaning against the wall by his door, playing on his phone idly. As Steve pulled out his keys and then dropped them, Clint glanced up at him and frowned.

"Steve, you need to breathe."

Shaking his head as he fell to his knees, Steve's hands shook as he reached for his keys. Clint knelt in front of them and grabbed them, holding them out to him as he gently said, "Here you go. Just take a deep breath for me, all right?"

Steve snatched the keys and squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the keys tightly. His body shook, and he gasped for air, feeling the metal of the keys dig into his palm.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Steve shook his head, grateful when Clint sighed, "All right. Got it. You think you can stand up on your own though? 'Cause I think you'll be more comfortable in your apartment instead of in this hallway." 

"Is he okay?"

White hot embarrassment flooded through Steve as he heard a gentle voice ask that. Glancing up, he spotted his newest neighbor. She was wearing scrubs and her blonde hair was in a high ponytail. He was pretty sure her name was Kate.

Clint nodded, "Yeah. He'll be okay. Just needs some rest. Right, buddy?"

Steve nodded and stumbled up, muttering an apology to Kate. She just nodded, looking at him with pity, and he moved to his door. It took him a few tries to get the key into the lock, but then once he unlocked it, he went in. Clint followed closely and as soon as they were both in, Steve locked the door and pressed his forehead against it.

"What the hell happened to you? You're shaking."

Steve winced and turned around, leaning against the door. Staring down at his hands, he could feel the tension in his jaw as he confessed, "I fucked up really badly, Clint."

"How about we go sit down and talk about this, all right? I promise you that there's no way in hell you fucked up worse than my worst fuck up. Hell, your worst fuck up is still probably than my best shit, so c'mon. Go get cleaned up and then go sit down. I'll get you some water."

Steve stumbled over to the bathroom and splashed water on his face before glancing at his toothbrush. Just the idea of brushing had him gagging, so he grabbed mouthwash and swished it before spitting it out. Glancing down at his shirt, Steve winced as he saw that at least a few flecks of cum and vomit had both gotten onto his shirt. Steve hung his leather jacket in his room before focusing again on his t-shirt. Peeling it off, he threw it into the laundry basket in the room before he put on a fresh t-shirt from his room.

His legs were only mildly steadier as he headed to the couch and stared at the wall until Clint gently pushed a glass of ice water into his hands. He took a sip of it, feeling the cold water enter his stomach as he tried to figure out how to explain what had happened. Clint just sat next to him, waiting patiently. Steve could feel the pressure building up in his throat, and he closed his eyes as he said, "I'm bisexual."

"Fuck yeah, we'll start a club." Steve glanced at Clint, surprised when the man grinned, "Now as fucking cool as it is that you just helped me win a bet I made to absolutely no one when I was 13, I know that can't possibly be the fuck up you made, so what happened?"

Steve stared at the ground, unwilling to look at Clint as he confessed, "After the mission, everything just felt…wrong. I wandered and I found myself at a club. Everything was so loud, and I went onto the dance floor. Next thing I knew, I was dancing with someone, and I just wanted to feel something, anything, so I followed him into the bathroom. And we…"

"Had sex?" Clint asked after Steve trailed off for several moments.

Steve shook his head, "No, he sucked me off and then I returned the favor."

Clint's eyes were wide, and he held up a hand, "Wait, no judgment, but just to clarify, you sucked dick in the bathroom of a gay nightclub?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah."

"Sounds like a great evening, and you did have sex because oral sex is still sex, buddy. Anyway, what's wrong?"

Steve frowned, "I realized partway through that we could easily just…get caught. And I was terrified that someone would find out that Captain America is a cocksucker and that my whole life would just…fall apart."

Tears filled Steve's eyes and he confessed, "And as I ran home, I realized that everything I thought I would get from…doing that, I just _ didn't get _ . I didn't feel closer to anyone. I didn't feel better. I felt _ worse _. I feel like I just fucked up my entire career and that I betrayed the people I love."

"Woah, okay, hold up. First of all, there's nothing wrong with having sex as an adult, even with a stranger. And honestly, the media can go fuck itself. Yeah, there'd be a controversy about you being bi for a short while, but the rest of us would stand by you. Even Stark wouldn't give a fuck. And also, how the hell did you betray anyone?"

"I lost Vivian in 1943, and I lost Bucky in 1945, and I know people think I should just be…moved on, but it doesn't feel that long for me. It still _ hurts _ so much."

Clint squeezed his shoulder and Steve glanced over, tears slipping down his cheeks as Clint shook his head, "No. C'mon. There's no timeline for that sort of thing. You don't _ have _ to do anything."

"You don't think I'm an idiot?"

Clint shook his head, "Nah, but I will say that if you're going to be coming at relationships from the basis of not being able to give all of yourself to them, then you need to make sure whenever you decide to try dating that you're honest with what you're able to give. The guy in the bathroom didn't expect anything more than sex, but people on dates typically expect more."

"What if someone needs more than I can give?"

"Then either they move on or they learn to live with less. I'm in love with a woman that's, for a lot of reasons, just not ready to be fully committed to anyone, so the only thing we can have right now is casual. And for now that's fine. I can deal with it, because I can still be there for her. I can still _ be with her _ . I don't know if that'll always be enough though, and it'll be something we have to decide later. For now, I get to be her partner and her confidant in everything else, and it _ is _enough."

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered.

Clint smiled, "Don't be. I knew what I was getting into. Besides, this is about you right now. Before today, have you ever had casual sex with _ anyone _ before?"

"I'm not a virgin," Steve snapped defensively.

Clint held up both hands, "That's not what I asked. I asked if you'd had _ casual _ sex before."

Steve slumped onto the couch and shook his head. For a moment he wondered if he should just keep it quiet before he decided to bite the bullet and confessed, "I lost my virginity to Vivian and Bucky when I was a teenager, and then it was just them. I kissed a few other people, but they were the only people I ever had sex with."

"Not everyone's capable of casual sex, Steve, and there's nothing wrong with that."

Steve nodded, "I've read up on different things, things that are legal and accepted now, and still there's…"

"Just figure out what you need in order to be safe and healthy, all right? And hell, you can always talk to me about this. And not just because I'll probably forget half this conversation so there's no way I'll spill it to anyone."

Steve chuckled at that, smiling softly before glancing over at Clint and asking, "Can I ask how it works with…"

Clint shrugged and scratched the back of his neck before he admitted, "Right now the relationship is open. When we're both stateside, we tend to be together, but we're both allowed to…do what we want the rest of the time. I know she's got some casual flings. Some women she goes to when she's overseas or when she needs something."

"How does someone become…okay with casual sex?"

Clint shook his head, "I mean, you can figure out the confines of what you're comfortable with, but there's no reason you need to force yourself to go outside those. I will say that casual sex with _ strangers _ is the most extreme form of it. I personally only have casual sex with people I know at least a little bit."

Steve felt nausea fill him as he thought about going to anyone on his team for intimacy. Most of them were a revolving door of faces he barely got to know. Rollins and Rumlow seemed like assholes. Competent assholes, but assholes nonetheless. Although even if they weren't complete jerks more often than not, Steve didn't find either of them attractive in the slightest. Natasha was intimidating beyond belief, and he also had a sneaking suspicion that she was the one Barton was in love with. It didn't seem like a good move on his part to get help from Clint only to then sleep with the woman he loved.

He glanced over and surveyed Clint. Clint was tall, only a couple inches shorter than him. He was handsome, in a kind of reckless way. He was lounged on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His jeans were tight and ripped. His shirt was a basic t-shirt and it was sliding up, showing off his abs. He had small bandages along his toned arms and a couple on his face. His eyes were blue. He could see the smallest amount of a hearing aid in Clint's ear. He was _ handsome_.

"You know, I'm half deaf and I can still hear those wheels turning in your head."

Clint glanced over at him with a grin and Steve didn't let himself think too much about it as he moved close and kissed him. For a moment Clint didn't respond, but then he did. Steve shivered as Clint slipped a tongue into his mouth. After a few moments though, the kiss ended and Steve frowned when Clint pulled back and muttered, "Fuck."

"What? What is it?" Steve asked.

Clint shook his head and motioned between them, "This. Steve, buddy, not that I'm not insanely enjoying this, because Jesus Christ, you're hot. And also I think everyone capable of getting horny has jerked off to the idea of you at least once in their life. But Steve, it hasn't been that long since you were nearly sobbing in a hallway over hooking up with someone."

Steve flinched at that, but shook it off and retorted, "Yeah, but I didn't know that guy. I know you. I trust you."

Clint's gaze softened, "And I appreciate that, but are you wanting to kiss me because you want to kiss me or because you think you're supposed to want to kiss me? 'Cause I know all about unhealthy coping mechanisms. Got a ton of myself, in fact. Not really sure I wanna be yours."

Steve leaned back, blinking back tears and staring up at the ceiling. Clint placed a hand on his chest and Steve nodded as he said, "Breathe, Steve. C'mon. I'm not saying no. I'm saying you need to be doing things for the right reasons. I don't want to be the reason you have another goddamn panic attack in your hallway."

"Are you going to tell anyone about this?" Clint snorted and Steve sighed, "That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but you're really fucking hot, so I'll forgive you," Clint said with a grin. He then paused and laughed, "Didn't know you could go that red, Rogers."

Steve shook his head, and then stared forward before he whispered, "Oh god. I sucked a stranger off in a nightclub bathroom."

"Was he at least cute?"

"He reminded me of my dead ex."

"Ah..." Clint said. The two sat in silence before Clint said, "So was that the first time you'd been with someone since...you know?" Steve nodded, and Clint gave a low whistle, "First time back out of the gate and that's how you went? Maybe next time go a little less ambitious."

"So you're saying when we hook up, don't have it be in public?"

"Jesus Christ, Rogers. How has anyone thought you were innocent?"

Steve shrugged and smiled softly, "No idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oral sex is still sex and you should use condoms when you have sex in general, but especially when having sex with someone you do not know. Also, no one ever owes anyone sex of any kind so just stay safe out there and don't push yourself past what you're ready for. People who can't handle that you have boundaries aren't worth your time or energy.
> 
> I love my Clint Barton. [He's a tall, handsome man.](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4c/b5/51/4cb55136f5f61d937b533fc0fc9b90f2.jpg) So yeah, Clint Barton and Steve Rogers are going to hook up. Steve trusts Clint, as is evident from Steve pretty solidly confessing his relationships with Viv and Bucky.
> 
> Honestly I would have had Steve hook up with Thor if there was just any realistic way to make it happen, but there really, really isn't. I was sad about that, but oh well.


	17. Seventeen: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: beginnings of a panic attack, Clint is a mess, and Steve and Clint have sex

Steve felt like he could scarcely breathe. The screens on the wall of the triskelion showed a battle in Greenwich. _ Thor _ was there. Holes were opening up in the sky. A massive alien ship appeared and suddenly Steve felt like he was back in the battle of New York. He could taste blood and concrete. He could hear screams and explosions. Steve stumbled back as he could feel exhaustion seeping into his body. By the time the battle had ended, he'd barely been on his feet. He'd fallen asleep partway through the meal they'd had.

And now there was Thor, going through it all again, but this time he was alone. He was all alone, and there was no one there to help him. There weren't even SHIELD agents there. He was just out there in the open.

"We need to help him. _ I _ need to help him. He's all alone. He's--"

"Going to be fine," Clint interrupted. "That stubborn bastard isn't going to die from this, and besides, we're in DC. He's in Greenwich. Thinktank upstairs says this whole thing will only last for another five minutes. We won't even be in the plane when this whole thing ends."

Steve felt nauseous, like his whole stomach was turning end over end. Cars were slamming down back to the ground out of holes in the sky. Everything looked like it was just falling apart. He glanced over as Clint's hand wrapped around his bicep and gripped tightly. He wanted to ask something, but Clint began leading him out of the room and then out of the building. Steve glanced back toward the TV, but then winced as Clint announced, "No. We're leaving."

"But we need to make sure he'll be okay."

"What we need is for you to stop giving yourself a goddamn heart attack over shit you can't control."

Steve winced as he was gently pushed into the passenger seat of a car before Clint got into the driver's seat. He smiled weakly as the man grinned wildly and then drove off. The driving was a little chaotic, but they made it to his apartment building in one piece. Once they were out, Steve let himself get manhandled up the stairs, glancing over in shock as Clint grinned, "Fuckin' ecstatic we didn't get pulled over by the cops. Technically I don't have a license."

"What do you mean--"

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that. It's not like it was _ revoked _ or anything. I just...haven't renewed it in a while."

"How long is _ a while_?"

Clint paused and tilted his head before he announced, "Uhhh _ about six years_? Yeah. About six years."

"_Clint_," Steve groaned.

He just grinned and Steve shook his head as they headed into his apartment. Moving over to the TV, Steve turned it on and then sighed with relief as he saw that the newscaster was talking about how the danger in Greenwich was over and how Thor seemed injured, but alive.

"See? He was fine."

Steve nodded, sitting down on his couch. Clint came back out of the kitchen carrying a coffee mug and a glass of water. Steve accepted the water gratefully, sipping at it while Clint sat next to him and drank his coffee.

"How do you get used to it?" Steve asked with a frown.

"Get used to what?"

Steve motioned to the tv and sat his glass down on the coffee table, "To just watching the people you know and care about get into fights without being able to do anything about it."

"Well, how'd you deal with seeing people go off to World War II before you were able to join?"

"I forged government documents in the hopes that I would be able to join them and then finally it worked and I was injected with a super secret serum that led to me looking like this."

Clint paused, "So not great."

Steve shook his head, "No, not great."

Clint stretched and there was a stretch of silence between them. For several minutes, the two just sat next to each other until Clint said, "You gotta trust your team. You gotta trust that the people that are there to have your back in a battle can take care of themselves. Obviously if you're in a position to _ actually _ help someone, do it, but helping someone doesn't always mean _ doing _ something. You gotta learn when things are your responsibility and when they're not."

Steve frowned and stared at his hands. He wasn't really sure what to think of that. As he sat there though, Clint reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Steve glanced over while Clint shook his head, "C'mon, what are you thinking about?"

"Isn't the captain _ supposed _ to be responsible?" Steve whispered.

Clint sighed, "Fuck. Okay. Yeah, but not to the point you clearly have been told. The _ entire team _ is responsible for their own actions. You are responsible for _ yours_. If you order someone else to do something, then yeah, that's your responsibility too, but if Thor is fighting a random battle that started off world, then that's not on you. It can't be on you. You didn't fucking tell him to bring some random alien from another planet onto this world. You're not responsible if Thor wrecks Greenwich while going solo."

"I just feel like I should have--"

"What? Were you going to babysit all of the Avengers for the rest of your life?" Clint interrupted gently. "Thor is an adult. Actually, Thor is older than the rest of us combined. He doesn't need you keeping tabs on him. Just like you don't want or need him doing that to you."

Steve nodded and sighed, "You're right."

"Hell yeah, I'm right. Also, can I have that as a recording so that I can let Tasha know that I'm sometimes right?"

Steve snorted and shook his head, "Should have planned ahead, Barton."

Clint shrugged and stretched before nodding to the TV, "They're going to be speculating on this shit for the rest of the day. They have to fill a whole ass day with this 24 hour new cycle bullshit."

Steve turned off the TV and frowned, "So we just...wait?"

Clint laughed, "Yeah. Or you do what I do and just focus on the things you can do or hell, distract yourself if you need to. I'm a _ big _ fan of distractions."

Steve could still feel his pulse in his throat, could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body and he glanced over at Clint. Clint's hair was mussed from running his fingers through it. His lips were red from being bitten. He was sitting low into the couch, his legs splayed wide.

"And how long should the distraction last?" Steve asked, looking the man up and down.

Clint shrugged, "Until you can get out of your own head."

Steve grabbed Clint's nearly empty coffee cup and set it on the table. Clint glared at him, but then Steve leaned close, pressing their foreheads together as he whispered, "You said it wasn't a no."

For a moment, Clint looked confused, but then his eyes widened for a split second. Steve watched as he sighed. Clint stared at the ceiling for a few moments before the man muttered, "Fuck it."

Steve was about to ask what exactly Clint said that for when he was pulled into a heated kiss. Steve smiled into it as hands roughly pulled him closer, one of them sliding up and gripping at the hair on the back of his head. Steve's own hands slid up Clint's shirt, pushing it up until they finally had to end the kiss. Tossing the shirt aside, Steve flicked his gaze up momentarily before he ran a hand along Clint's chest and torso. Steve liked the way Clint looked. He was muscular, but in a lean way, and he had a scattering of scars along his chest and abs. No two looked exactly alike and he could tell they all happened at different times. One looked particularly recent, one near Clint's hip, and Steve slid down, kissing and nipping his way down until he reached that spot.

Steve could hear groans from above him and he smiled, undoing Clint's pants as the man frantically lifted his hips to get them down faster. Once they were down, Steve leisurely stroked Clint, feeling a bit surprised when he remembered that both Clint and Mark were circumcised. Part of him wondered if it would be rude to ask why so many men seemed to be circumcised. Instead he went to work, flicking his tongue along the head before sucking lightly. Clint groaned, and Steve slowly more into his mouth and throat. Once again, Steve's mind drifted to Bucky.

"_Shit_. _ Fuck_. How the _ fuck _ do you know how to do that?"

Steve felt amusement rush through him as he deepthroated Clint, the man crying out and squirming on the couch. Steve pulled back slightly, holding Clint's hips down as he focused on dragging every moan and cry out of him. Time seemed to slip away and Steve focused on the sounds, pushing away all his own thoughts until Clint pulled him off and dragged him up by his shirt. Smirking as Clint panted, Steve nipped at his neck.

"Shit, Steve. _ Fuck_. Would have said yes the first fucking time you offered If I knew you were this goddamn good at it."

"No, you wouldn't have," Steve retorted, squeezing Clint's thigh and causing the man to gasp slightly. Peeling off his own shirt, Steve threw it aside and then paused before taking off his pants. Clint was leaning back on the couch, gasping for breath.

"You okay?"

Steve nodded, moving to undo his pants when Clint slid forward and undid them for him, shoving them down. For a moment Clint just stared at him as he got his pants down and off, but then Steve blushed bright red as Clint burst into laughter.

"Uh, Clint? Not really the--"

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're huge. How the fuck do you even fit in your uniform?" Steve blushed bright red, eyes widening as Clint shook his head, "Shit. You could star in pornos."

Clint smiled softly and sighed, "Sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have laughed. Wasn't making fun of you. Just..._ shit_, I did not expect you to have the world's most perfect cock."

Steve blushed and gasped as Clint wrapped a hand around him. His back arched and he stared up at the ceiling as Clint teased him with his tongue. For a moment his thoughts drifted to Vivian and then he shook his head. His fingers dug into the couch and he told himself over and over that he shouldn't touch Clint, that he shouldn't run his fingers through his hair. Then Clint's hand grabbed his, and pulled it close. Opening his eyes, Steve glanced down and his eyes met Clint's. Running his fingers through Clint's hair, Steve's breathing increased and he focused on those eyes. On Clint's eyes.

Clint looked amused and then he swirled his tongue, causing Steve's hips to arch, thrusting up slightly. Steve moaned, tugging at Clint's hair. Clint increased his efforts, and Steve groaned, thrusting harder as he came with a moan. As he came, Steve's grip on Clint's hair loosened as he cried out.

Glancing down at Clint as he wiped at his mouth, Steve pulled him up and kissed him. He could taste himself on Clint's tongue. It was erotic, and intimate, something he hadn't experienced since he'd lost the people he loved.

"Aren't you a charmer?" Clint teased. Steve shook his head, smiling, but then inhaled sharply as Clint stroked him again. "Jesus, you're already hard again. Bet you can go a few times."

Steve nodded, smiling softy as he remembered Bucky figuring it out. He'd thought it was hilarious. His thoughts were cut short though as he felt Clint's tongue and fingertip probing gently at him.

"_Clint_."

A lube slick finger slid into him and Steve groaned as Clint nipped at his thigh before he teased, "There you go. Now you remember my name. Thought I was slacking."

"Where did you even--" Steve gasped as the finger curled inside him, "find lube?"

"It was by the couch. Seems like this couch has been busy," Clint teased. Steve blushed as he remembered that _ he had _ been masturbating on that couch the day before. Clint grinned wildly, and Steve gasped as another finger slipped inside him. His back arched and he gripped at the couch tightly as Clint asked, "So who'd you have fun with here anyway? Anyone I know?"

"No--" Steve gasped, his eyes rolling back as Clint nudged his prostate, "_No one_."

"Masturbating. Got it. Just jerking off or were you fingering yourself? Or maybe both?"

Steve's body trembled slightly as Clint _ dragged _ his fingers along his prostate, whimpering as he choked out, "_Both_."

"Bet you want to cum, don't you?"

Steve nodded, his breathing labored as Clint continued to tease him. Clint seemed amused though, eager to keep the play going. After a prolonged touch to his prostate, Steve groaned, "_Clint_. Just fuck me. _ Fuck me_."

The fingers were removed and Steve nodded as Clint slipped on a condom before positioning between his legs. Clint looked to him once more and Steve nodded again, licking his bottom lip as Clint grinned.

Steve found himself actually willing to look Clint in the eyes as the man entered him. He could actually _ focus _ on Clint. This was _ Clint _ that he was having sex with. Not a memory. Not a ghost. Just Clint. Reaching up and pulling Clint close, Steve kissed him as they began at a slow rhythm. And God, it'd been years. Steve hadn't forgotten how good sex was, was pretty sure that wasn't something he'd ever forget, but it'd been a while since he'd actually gotten to _ experience it _ with another person.

Steve shivered as his leg was pushed back and thrown over Clint's shoulder as he leaned into them. The pace steadily increased and Steve groaned into the kiss, nipping at Clint's bottom lip. Clint chuckled into it, and Steve's eyes rolled back into his head as Clint just _ slammed _ into his prostate. Steve moaned loudly and it turned into a cry as Clint kissed down to his throat and _ bit_. The couch squeaked slightly from the strain as Clint thrust into him harder and faster. For a delirious moment, Steve thought they were going to break the couch entirely, and then he stopped thinking about anything as he orgasmed with a shout.

Clint slowed down and Steve panted as Clint carefully pulled out of him and then lay back on the couch next to him. Glancing over at Clint, Steve then grinned as he saw a spattering of cum on Clint's neck and chest. Laughter bubbled up from Steve and he grinned as Clint glanced down at his chest and sighed, "Should have seen that coming."

Steve arched an eyebrow and Clint paused before he pointed, "Don't say anything. Only I get to make jokes like that."

Steve held up both his hands and rested his head back against the couch, breathing slowly. He smiled softly though as Clint frowned and then asked, "You okay?"

"Better than I thought I would be," Steve confessed. "There were still times when I would picture Viv and Bucky, but...I don't know. It still felt clearly different than being with them. Before we...I don't know, I just thought it would be more difficult. I kind of feel guilty that it wasn't."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Steve."

"I know, but it's just this feeling that I get sometimes."

"Guilt?"

Steve shook his head and then paused, "Okay, well, that's part of it, but sometimes I get this feeling like if I just turned around, they'd both be there."

"You spent basically all your time with one or both of them, didn't you?"

Steve nodded and glanced over at Clint in confusion, "How'd you know that?" 

Clint smiled, "I had an older brother. He's not..._ gone _gone, but we were recruited by different groups. First few months working for SHIELD was weird. Just expected him to be by my side after all those years and he wasn't. Took some time to get used to that feeling."

"Does sex always result in heart to hearts?"

Clint snorted, "Nope, and right now I'm going to ruin this mood by insisting I wash your fuckin' jizz off my chest. Shit, I actually think you got some on my _ chin_."

Steve grinned sheepishly, "Sorry."

Clint waved his hand aside and then got up. He stretched and Steve watched, shaking his head as he nearly tripped before righting himself and cursing under his breath. He could hear the shower starting and he blinked back tears as he remembered what it was like having sex with Buck and Viv. He remembered how much they took care of him and how much they doted on him, how much he doted on them in return. The feeling once it was all over was a satisfaction that seeped into his very soul, a comfort in knowing the people he loved were right there. Sex with Clint had been good, but it was never going to be that. It was never going to fulfill him like they had.

He wasn't actually sure he'd ever be able to get used to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's holiday season was good. I totally forgot last week to mention anything since my big thought process was just, "Hey, you need to get a chapter up!" Also, 2020 starts next week and so will 2014 in this story. So that'll be fun. Also, by my predictions, we'll be starting The Winter Soldier movie events by the end of January at the latest. So that should be interesting.
> 
> Oh and if anyone is specifically curious as to why Clint topped in this scene or feels like Steve should have topped instead, please know that I did, in fact, flip a coin via google and that's why that scene went down like it did. I flipped a coin because topping vs bottoming doesn't have deep significance, no matter what people on tumblr try to tell you. Rosemary-and-time can literally vouch for me on this because I was, in fact, talking to her when I did flip that coin via google. She found it very funny.


	18. Eighteen: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, welcome to 2014 and welcome to 2020.
> 
> Warnings: none that I can think of, but as always, please let me know if I missed anything

Steve frowned as he glanced at the screen in front of him, annoyance boiling through him. Clint and Romanoff stood near him as he reviewed the information. Once he finished his read through, he glanced at Clint before he demanded, "How did SHIELD tech get left behind in a _ war zone_?"

"That mission's above our clearance, Rogers. File says so," Romanoff said, looking almost bored.

Steve glared, opening his mouth to say something, but then paused as Clint stepped between them, "Most likely the mission went south and when they got emergency evac'd out, they didn't have time to do a full inventory check. It happened to me a couple times."

Steve glanced to where Rumlow and Rollins were whispering to each other as they flew the plane before focusing on Clint, "So it's just the five of us."

"Yep. Fury wants us in and out. Doesn't want the locals suspecting that they've got high grade tech at their disposal."

"It's not that complicated," Natasha said. Her tone was bland, but her words were anything but.

Steve wanted to trust Natasha as much as he trusted Clint, he really did. There were a lot of things about her that reminded him, in some strange way, of Vivian. He wasn't sure why, but she did. Unfortunately, every single mission they went on just seemed to drive a wedge further and further between them. Natasha was, at her core, loyal to SHIELD, that much he could tell, but it did put distance between them. He just wasn't sure whose orders she was ever following at any given time. Then again, he felt that way about Rollins and Rumlow as well.

Clint was the only one he was pretty sure he could trust implicitly, and that was because he knew that man regularly disobeyed direct orders in lieu of doing the right thing. Sharing a glance with Clint, Steve saw the man give a quick nod, and he nodded back before focusing on Natasha, "Are we sure the item is still in that building?"

Natasha nodded and brought specs up onto her screen, "As sure as we can be until we get there. According to the thinktank back at headquarters, the tracking within it is still operational. They'll bring the tracking online remotely, but it will draw attention to the device. They want us there to get this done as soon as possible, which is why we're having the debrief while we're in the air instead of back at base."

Steve nodded and then motioned Rollins and Rumlow to pay attention. The two did as they were told and Steve announced, "Barton will be our eyes on the perimeter. Rumlow, Rollins, you'll be backup, but otherwise remain on the jet unless things go FUBAR. Romanoff and I will secure the target and bring it on board. We are _ not _ here to start an international incident."

"Yes, sir," Rumlow and Rollins said in unison. Their tones were always a little off when they said it, but Steve nodded.

Clint gave him a thumbs up before he resumed fiddling with his bow and arrow. The arrows he was using were odd and had tips that looked more like syringes than anything else. When he arched an eyebrow at Clint, the man grinned and announced, "Knock out arrows. R&D department made them for me. The tips come off and I can replace them with new ones so I can reuse the arrows."

"Smart."

Clint beamed, and Steve headed over to Natasha's side as they closed in on the location and asked, "What's our com situation going to be?"

"We go dark until the mission is over. You know sign language?"

Steve nodded and then signed: _ Of course I do_.

Natasha smiled and signed back: _ Good, that will make this easy. _

Clint snapped his fingers and Steve glanced over as the man signed: _ We'll resume verbal communication once the item is in hand_.

Steve nodded and signaled he understood. Once they landed, Steve nodded and left. It was late, the middle of the night, so there was almost no one around. Clint immediately went up into one of the taller buildings, heading to the roof. The location that they were heading to was nondescript. If Steve hadn't known any better, he would have just assumed the building was a random business that had been shut down, not anything that would have SHIELD tech inside it.

Windows were boarded up and graffiti covered the walls. Parts of the street were cracked and stained with blood. Upon closer inspection, Steve realized there was state of the art security on this dump. Natasha quickly went to work, hacking into it before slowly opening the door. The two slid in and then headed forward. Pulling out his device, he turned it on, nodding as he saw that the tracking had turned on. Following it to the location, Steve frowned as he saw that the room was basically empty.

Frowning, Steve realized Natasha wasn't with him, but went to where the tracking signal was coming from until he was basically standing on top of it. Leaning down, Steve pried a tile off the ground and smiled as he spotted a SHIELD briefcase. Pulling it out, he then turned off the tracking device and left the room. Once he left, he spotted Natasha and held up the case.

"We expecting any company?"

Natasha shook her head and whispered, "Video's been overwritten and looped from the time we got here. It lasts for another five minutes. Thankfully, I didn't set off the alarm, because otherwise, they don't have an overnight shift here."

Steve sighed with relief and then whispered, "Then let's get out of here."

Slipping back out of the building, Steve still felt on edge and did feel on edge until Barton appeared from the building he'd been watching from. Nodding to him, Steve kept going, but then his eyes widened as Natasha grabbed them each by an arm and dragged them into an alley. Glancing at her in confusion, he was about to ask her what she was doing when she shook her head before she signed.

_ The street lights went out. A patrol is about to start. _

Frowning, Steve signed back: _ Why would they turn the lights off for that? _

_ Cops have specialized gear. Basically military now. People they're targeting can't see them coming_.

_ Then we need to move. If they're using tech to see people, they're going to see us_.

Natasha grit her teeth, but nodded, and they both glanced over as Clint pointed toward the building and then pointed up. The three then headed into the building and went up to the roof. Once they were on the roof, Steve could look over and see militarized police officers marching down the street. Once the cops were out of sight, Steve handed the tech to Natasha before he backed up and took a running jump, leaping from one roof to the other and hitting the top hard. Rolling to a stop, Steve shook his head and then stood up before glancing back. Clint shot an arrow to the other building and then let the tech slide down a rope. Steve raced back over to the edge and caught it.

Putting it on the ground on the roof, Steve frowned as Clint created a makeshift zipline. Steve watched the street, holding up a hand to stop them as another patrol went past. He waited until they were completely out of sight, a tense few minutes before he gave the signal. One by one they both slid down before Clint snapped the lines and removed the arrows from the roof.

They repeated this across two more rooftops, each time feeling more precarious than the next. None of them said a word to each other before they made it into the woods. Only then did Clint whisper gleefully, "Man, I fucking love ziplines."

Shaking his head, Steve almost reached for him, but then paused as Natasha gently nudged Clint's shoulders and sent him a fond look. He wondered if anyone had noticed him look at Viv or Buck like that. He'd certainly done little touches and glances like that to both of them. He'd loved and still loved them with a strength that left him breathless. Decades later, and he still wasn't over them.

He just hoped that wherever they were, they were proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, y'all. Chapter 19 will be kind of a precursor to the events of TWS and chapter 20 will be the beginning of TWS movie. I will warn y'all that TWS movie is going to take place over quite a few chapters. Steve's run with Sam up until Steve saying, "Don't hold Your breath" to Fury is well over 4k in word length. It's going to take at least 9 chapters for me to get us through TWS, so buckle in.
> 
> I also know that this story has had a lot more small chapters compared to the previous stories in this series, this one in particular being no exception, and I am grateful that y'all are trusting me on this and sticking with me. There are things in this story I want to establish in writing (my just saying shit is true doesn't mean much if it's not in the actual text in some way) and I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to force a word length just to have matching chapter sizes. I feel like readers can always tell when you do that, and it doesn't end well.


	19. Nineteen: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: spoilers for season 1 of Agents of SHIELD, threats of violence, minor descriptions of serious injuries, and extremely violent threats
> 
> This chapter is essentially a prelude to The Winter Soldier's events

Vivian tested the restraints on the chair she was strapped into and sighed. They'd learned from the last time she'd been locked up, fixed the flaw in the previous design. Although it was to be expected they would after she broke out and killed a half dozen guards before they managed to subdue her again. She'd broken free and attacked after one had said something about Steve. 

They'd joked about him coming dangerously close to an explosion, dangerously close to being killed before Hydra could even attempt the same. They'd joked about what his corpse would look like and she'd lost it. She'd beaten them until the vitriol would stop coming from their mouths. She'd done it until nothing at all had come out of them. Just silence.

"This the girl? She doesn't look like much."

Vivian glanced up and stared blankly as a white man in his late fifties strolled in. He was wearing a leather bomber jacket with a fur lining. The entirety of the jacket was black and on the arms were gray SHIELD logos. He had a smarmy grin on his face. She was almost certain that he was underestimating her.

"Don't be fooled, Garrett. Hecate is one of the most powerful weapons at our disposal," Pierce said, coming into view. "She is far older and far more experienced than any other member of this organization. She was brought in by the Red Skull himself."

"Wait, _ this _ is Hecate?" Garrett said with a low whistle, moving closer. "She doesn't _ look _ like a mutant."

"And I'd say you don't _ look _ like a moron, but we both know that would be a lie," Vivian said with a sneer. "Also, I'm not a Hydra member. I'm a hostage that sometimes rips apart dumb pieces of shit that get too close to the cage."

Garrett laughed and took a few steps back, a wild grin on his face, "Feisty." He then turned toward Pierce and held out his arms, "I think we'll get along just fine, boss."

Pierce narrowed his eyes but nodded and announced while leaving the room, "If she gets out, you won't live long enough to regret it." 

The door shut and Vivian frowned as he grabbed a bag by the door and brought it over while announcing, "It true you can heal from anything?"

"If you're planning on torturing me and this is a cute segue into that, then I'll have to let you know that it _ doesn't work on me_," Vivian sighed. "You know, just to make sure you don't waste both of our time."

Garrett grabbed her chin tightly, his nails digging into her chin. Her pulse raised slightly as he snapped, "Answer the question or we'll test it out on someone who can't heal."

Vivian narrowed her eyes, "As far as I know, yes."

"You ever survived a bomb blast?"

"Yes."

"You ever seen your own intestines on the outside of your body?"

"Yes."

"Ever put them back in?"

"Yes."

"Ever duct taped yourself back together and kept moving?"

"Yes."

"Ever been left to die by people you were loyal to?"

"No," Vivian said honestly. John Garrett reared back, looking the most shocked by that answer. Vivian grinned, baring her teeth, "But you have. Haven't you? Let me guess? SHIELD let you down. You were left for dead and you...what? Decided to hurt them by joining the super secret organization within them? Wild."

"I was more loyal to them than they were to me," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I gave them _ everything _ and then what? Nothing? Excuses? All they had to do was pull me out of that hellhole, and they left me there to _ rot_. _ I _ put myself together. _ I _ dragged myself to safety. _ I _ got myself out of Hell. And now look at them. Coulson fucking _ dies _ and they manage to bring him back from the dead. Rewired his whole goddamn brain. Fury moved Heaven and Hell for Coulson and they wouldn't even get me a fuckin' transport?"

"Sounds like Coulson didn't really have a good time either," Vivian mused. "Someone burning away parts of your brain isn't fun. Being dragged back out of death isn't either. I wouldn't really consider Coulson the _ winner _ in that instance. I sure as hell don't think _ Coulson _ sees himself as a winner."

The case next to Garrett got opened and inside were vials filled with blue liquid. His hands were shaking as he demanded, "Do you know what these vials have in them?"

"_Baja Blast_?" Vivian mused.

"One of these vials was able to knit Phil Coulson's _ heart _ back together within _ seconds_."

"Good for him."

"I need to know which one it is."

Vivian frowned, her brows furrowing as she said, "My mutant ability isn't 'identify random shit in vials just by sight alone'. _ I don't know biochemistry_. I studied nursing _ in the 1930s_. We _ barely _ had penicillin. I don't have the faintest clue of what's in those vials. Normally I'd say it can be effective to test random drugs on me to see what works, but I also have my own very robust healing factor, _ Agent _ Garrett. I don't know how you would be able to view my body reacting to any of those and be able to differentiate between _ my _ healing ability and the healing factors in those. There's also no guarantee that any reaction inside the body of a mutant will be the same reaction that happens in a person such as yourself."

"Why not?"

"Because something might look completely ineffective in me, but it could be highly poisonous in you."

"One of these saved Coulson! They saved Skye! Something here has to be able to help me!"

Vivian frowned as Garrett screamed, seeming to get more erratic. As he paced, she shrugged, "I don't know who Skye is, so I don't know what her injuries were like. You also said yourself that you don't even know which of these was it, and these all have different numbers."

"So you're saying you're useless?"

"I'm saying I'm not a piece of lab equipment, which is exactly what you need to analyze those vials. Have fun."

Garrett packed his things up and stormed out, slamming the door behind him as he went. Vivian waited for a few moments before she called out, "Did you enjoy the show, Pierce?"

Pierce came back in and mused, "You were surprisingly well-behaved today."

"Figured that the last thing anyone needed was for me to accidentally send him after whoever this Skye chick is. If she needed some miracle drug to heal her then it sounds like she deserves a break."

"What makes you think Skye is innocent?"

"Because if she was one of you, she'd have already volunteered to give up any and all blood to solve the mystery of whatever was in those tubes that healed her. Besides, don't you already have your own serums and things to give to people to heal them?"

"The world is changing rapidly," Pierce said. "We need as many assets in our arsenal as we can get. Your blood is helpful. The centipede serum is also helpful. This serum could be what makes us gods. It saved a young woman's life and it returned a man from death itself. Even with the serum produced by your blood, it cannot be administered to a _ corpse_. Coulson was dead for _ days _ before he received this. _ Days _ and he lived. He lives. He's healthier than ever."

"Garrett mentioned they had to rewire his brain. That doesn't really sound flawless to me," Vivian sighed.

"He didn't react well to it. Supposedly he begged for death as he came back. They replaced the memories of the procedure with something better."

"Why are you telling me _ any _ of this?" Vivian snapped. "What's the point?"

Pierce leaned close and gripped her arms, pinning them further to the chair as he hissed, "If one of those vials can cure someone, then surely one of them can _ kill you. _ What I mean is that I don't know what you're planning, but you better hope you're as fast as I am, _ Peshkova_, because once my plan is finalized? Once those ships are in the air? You will be _ nothing_."

Pierce's nails dug into her arms as he became more frantic, "Your last moments will be spent watching me take my rightful place as leader of the entire world. Anyone who'd even think of helping you will be shot down where they stand, millions upon millions of people, and then I will have your stupid pet choke the life out of you. I won't even have to do anything to him. Once he's realized what he's done, he'll put a bullet in his own brain."

Vivian stared at Pierce, looking deep into his eyes. She grinned a wide smile, and then whispered, "I guess we'll find out."

"_You have weeks to live_!"

Vivian shrugged, "Maybe."

Pierce was nearly shaking. His rage seemed to be nearly bursting from every single pore in his body, and she tilted her head to the side, watching as he pulled himself together. Gone was the raging monster and back was the collected politician. He smoothed his suit and she watched him plaster a smile over his face. He gripped her chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. He looked her over and then he whispered, "Maybe I won't ever let Barnes go. He'll become your jailer, your torturer. He'll slice you open, pull out your insides. He'll watch you heal. He'll do this until he wakes up with your blood on his hands and your name on his lips. And then I'll take your name from him again, burn you out of him, and he'll go back to being your torturer. And I'll repeat it until there's nothing left of either of you."

Pierce left, laughing wildly and loudly. The sound echoed off the walls and after he left, Vivian _ screamed_. She screamed and the restraints on her flew off, slamming into the wall and she slipped out of the chair, her throat raw as she just _ kept screaming_. The chair flew backward, smashing against the wall and she pressed her hands over her ears. The rage inside her bubbled out and over, finally only stopping as the door slammed open and a dart hit her neck, cutting off the sound. The ground rushed up to meet her, a buzzing sound filling her ears as everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, y'all. I do love this chapter and what it does for the story, but at the same time I am also extremely anxious to get started on TWS's events. I have 3 of the chapters completely written so far and already it's close to 10k for all three of those. The order of the chapters will be Steve, Steve, Viv. I'm working on chapter 4 today and that will be Steve again.
> 
> So much Steve coming up y'all and not very much Bucky. I wish it was a little bit more balanced between Steve, Viv, and Bucky, but unfortunately, chapters have to be written via whose point of view makes the most sense. Can't exactly have Bucky or Viv's perspective on Steve going to the Smithsonian since they're definitely not there.
> 
> Oh, and as always, thank y'all so much for your support. I love all of my readers and that's regardless of whether you give kudos or comment, although the latter are a delightful bonus that light up my days. <3 I still am amazed that anyone likes this series at all and I'm just so grateful for every single one of you.


	20. Twenty: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Steve throws a knife into a guy's hand while he's beating up a bunch of dudes.
> 
> Honestly, there's not much to warn about since this chapter covers The Winter Soldier from the opening to to Steve finding out about Project Insight.
> 
> As always though, if something does need to be warned about, let me know and I'll add it up here.

It was still dark as Steve began his morning run. After giving himself hairline fractures in his knuckles for the dozenth time, Steve had realized that he needed a way to burn out his energy, to get out of his head, in a way that didn't brutalize himself. Running seemed like the perfect fit and pre-dawn runs meant that there wasn't a huge crowd. He _ liked _ the route he took. He could see the Washington Monument. He could see the Lincoln Memorial and the Jefferson Memorial. The water was gorgeous. The skyline was stunning. And when the sun rose over it, it just looked _ peaceful_.

Lately though, Steve had noticed someone else running the path he ran. More importantly, he noticed how _ attractive _ the man was. The man had great form and was clearly in really great shape. Pushing himself a little bit faster, maybe showing off _ just a smidge_, Steve raced by him, unable to stop himself as he said, "On your left."

Steve raced through his path, catching up to the man again in time to say it again. The sun was rising, casting a soft glow on both of them. He grinned as the man nodded and panted, "Uh-huh. On my left. Got it."

The sun had fully risen by the time he caught up to the man again. As he came up from behind him, the man heard him coming and shouted, "_Don't say it. Don't you say it!_"

"On your left!"

"_Come on_!"

Steve raced forward, but then glanced back, feeling a little bad as he saw the man slowing down and then stopping to sit down. Heading back, Steve smiled as he saw him leaning against a tree, panting for breath. Steve stepped forward and teased, "Need a medic?"

"I need a new set of _ lungs_. _ Dude_, you just ran, like, thirteen miles in thirty minutes."

"Guess I got a late start," Steve said with a grin.

"Really?" the man laughed. The laugh was warm. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." He glanced away and then glanced back, "Did you just take it? I assume you just took it."

Pointing to the man's sweatshirt, Steve asked, "What unit you with?"

"58th Pararescue, but now I'm working down at the VA," he answered, holding out a hand. "Sam Wilson."

"Steve Rogers," Steve said as he helped Sam back to his feet.

"Yeah, I kind of put that together," Sam said, catching his breath. "Must have freaked you out, after the whole defrosting thing."

Steve sighed, dread filling him. He didn't want to talk about that, especially not with the guy he'd tried to flirt with. He'd clearly failed with _ that _ portion of it, but he'd at least hoped it wouldn't immediately go to _ that _ topic. Faking a smile, Steve said, "It takes some getting used to. It's good meeting you, Sam."

Steve turned to leave, but then paused as Sam called after him, "It's your bed, right?"

"What's that?" Steve asked, turning toward him in confusion.

"Your bed. It's too soft," Sam explained, not unkindly. "When I was over there, I'd sleep on the ground, use rocks for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying in my bed, and it's like..."

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve sighed, grateful that the topic had changed _ and _ that Sam understood this feeling. "Feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor." Sam nodded and gave a short laugh. "How long?" Steve asked.

"Two tours," Sam said. "You must miss the good old days, huh?"

Steve inhaled deeply. He hated this question, because the truth was that he only missed the _ people _ from those days. People expected him to miss politics or food or _ something_, but all he missed was _ them_. He couldn't say that though, couldn't voice it, so instead he said, "Well, things aren't so bad. Food's a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio is good. _ Internet_, so helpful! I've been reading on that a lot, trying to catch up."

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, _ Trouble Man _ soundtrack. Everything you missed jammed into one album."

Pulling out his notepad, Steve smiled and said, "I'll put it on the list."

Steve glanced at his list, happy about the eclectic amount of things on there. _ I Love Lucy_, _ Disco_, _ MASH, Thai Food_, _ Star Wars, Star Trek, Nirvana, Queen, Rocky, Zelda (video games), _ and now _ Trouble Man Soundtrack_.

Once he finished amending his list, Steve pocketed the notebook only for his phone to beep and vibrate. Pulling it out, he saw a text from Natasha that just stated: MISSION ALERT. EXTRACTION IMMINENT. MEET AT THE CURB. :)

"All right, Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run." Steve shook Sam's hand and then teased, "If that's what you want to call running."

"Oh,_ that's how it is_?"

"Oh, that's how it is," Steve grinned.

"Okay," Sam laughed. "Any time you want to stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

"I'll keep it in mind," Steve assured him, now absolutely certain his flirting hadn't worked. Steve hadn't actively flirted in a while, but he was pretty sure that typically people didn't end flirting sessions by asking for help picking up someone else. The car pulled up and Steve sighed as Natasha lowered the passenger door window.

"Hey, fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil."

"That's hilarious," Steve said, rolling his eyes as he got into the car.

"How you doing?" Sam said with a grin, crouching down to look into the car.

"Hey," Natasha said with a smirk.

"Can't run everywhere," Steve said with a shrug.

"No, you can't," Sam replied, that same grin on his face.

The window rolled up and Steve sighed when they were barely away from the curb when Natasha asked, "So, who was he? He's cute."

"Sam Wilson. Former Air Force, works at the VA now if you wanna drop by and give him a surprise visit." Natasha sent him a look, so Steve switched topics, "Do I have time to shower at my place or is this a situation where I take a 5 minute shower before I get directly into my uniform on base?"

"Latter, for sure. We won't even be debriefed until we're in the air to save time," Natasha said, shaking her head.

"Will Barton be with us?"

Natasha shook her head, "He got sent on a different assignment a few days ago."

Steve nodded. He'd figured as much after Clint hadn't texted him in a few days, but he'd kind of hoped the man had just broken his phone again. He seemed to do that once every few months through some ridiculous set of circumstances. Getting out of the car once they reached the base, Steve immediately went to the locker room to shower and get into his stealth suit. He knew the mission must have been important, because the turnaround time from him getting there to them taking off was fifteen minutes.

The plane itself moved fast, exceedingly fast, but it was still going to take them an hour to reach their destination. Normally Steve would have spent the time either debriefing the team or looking over the information so he could debrief them, but it seemed Rumlow had been put in charge of the intel this time around. Rumlow's style seemed more that he wanted to wait until they were almost there to debrief people. It was certainly..._a _ way to do it, but it wasn't one Steve liked.

Rumlow cleared his throat and motioned everyone over. Everyone gathered around the screen as Rumlow brought up images of a ship on screen, giving everyone a 360 view of the specs as he explained, "Target is a mobile satellite launch platform, the Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago."

A situation report came on screen, and Steve glanced at everything before he asked, "Any demands?"

"Billion and a half."

Steve had to force himself not to flinch at a number that big. People were billionaires now. Hearing _ billion _ wasn't unheard of to others, but it still was to him. Instead he focused on that as a ransom amount, keeping his expression neutral. "Why so steep?"

"Because it's SHIELD's," Rumlow responded bluntly.

Steve instantly became annoyed by that answer, leaning slightly toward Natasha as he said, "So it's not off-course. It's trespassing."

Natasha had one hand resting thoughtfully on her chin as she surveyed the screen, her voice somewhat distracted sounding as she replied, "I'm sure they have a good reason."

She glanced over at him and he narrowed his eyes slightly before he said, "You know, I'm a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

"_Relax_, it's not that complicated," Natasha said with a smile.

"How many pirates?" Steve asked, focusing back on Rumlow.

"Twenty-five," Rumlow said, bringing up a picture of a man onto the screen. "Top mercs led by this guy. George Batroc. Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had 36 kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

"Hostages?" Steve asked, starting to do the calculations and strategize to figure out how they were going to take out 25 men without risking the lives of the hostages on board.

Rumlow brought up another series of pictures, all personnel photos from SHIELD. "Oh, mostly techs." Rumlow then chose one specific picture and pointed, "One officer: Jasper Sitwell. They're in the galley."

Steve frowned, putting his gloves onto his hands as he asked, mostly to himself, "What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" It just didn't make sense, but Steve didn't have the time to figure out why that man was somewhere he probably shouldn't be. "Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get them out. Let's move."

"STRIKE, you heard the CAP. Gear up," Rumlow announced loudly.

Bringing his wrist up to his mouth, Steve said, "Secure channel seven."

"Seven secure," Natasha replied. "Did you do anything fun Saturday night?"

Steve thought about how he'd watched a documentary about nurses in World War II and ended up breaking down in tears after they'd done a full fifteen minutes on Vivian's life. He'd stopped the documentary before they could talk about her murder. He knew he couldn't mention _ that_, so instead he joked as he put in his earpiece, "Well, all the guys in my barbershop quartet are dead, so no, not really."

Natasha grinned as if she knew it was a joke, but if she was going to call him out on it, she didn't get a chance as one of the pilots announced, "Coming up on the drop zone, Cap."

Steve hit the button to lower the bay door to the plane. As it lowered, Natasha glanced over and said, "You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she'd probably say yes."

Steve strapped on his helmet and began walking down the ramp while he said, "That's why I don't ask."

Steve placed the shield onto his back and wanted to roll his eyes as Natasha teased, "Too shy or too scared?"

"Too busy!" Steve called and then promptly threw himself out of the plane. It was a little irrational of him to be heading to the ship this way, but it felt good. The air whistled around him and it made him feel weightless and connected. It also got him out of that conversation and away from Natasha's eyes that seemed to see everything. Well, everything except for the fact that he didn't want to date anyone because they weren't Viv or Bucky.

As he got closer to the water, Steve turned and crossed his arms across his chest, his feet pointed as he entered the water. The dive was perfectly, barely moved the water at all. The cold of the water threatened to sink into his skin, but he got out of it as soon as possible. He climbed up the anchor chain and silently hopped onto the ship behind one of the pirates. Moving up behind him, Steve then wrapped an arm around his throat and brought him down, knocking him unconscious with a single move. As soon as he was down, Steve was moving, fast and silent.

Coming to an opening, Steve threw his shield, knocking it into another pirate and then slid along the ground, catching it after it hit the man again. Hurling it into the pirates one last time to knock him out, he then put the shield back onto his back and continued his sweep. He caught his next person by surprise, leaping up and slamming both feet into the man's chest, knocking him overboard. Two more men approached and Steve kicked the leg out from one of them before turning and flipping the other one, knocking him out with a swift punch to the face as he turned and kicked the other.

Once they were both down, Steve kept running, rushing past another pirates and shoving him over the railing as he went. The sound of the man screaming was muffled by the wind and Steve continued, propelling himself forward before he forced a man into a wall with a swift kick. Steve spotted a knife getting pulled and he reacted, blocking each of the moves before swiftly disarming him and knocking him out. The man he'd sent into the wall reached up for the alarm, his hand just inches from it when Steve threw the knife _ hard _ . The knife buried itself into his hand, pinning it into the wall and he _ screamed_. Steve moved quickly, kicking him to knock him unconscious.

The body was still slumping to the floor as he took off, turning and leaping off of the top deck. He landed nimbly, shield at the ready so he could immediately slap it first at one pirates and then do a quick turn to knock another out. The shield clanged against the pirates as he blocked their attacks, hitting them in the face to knock them out. Flipping himself sideways, Steve hurled the shield, hitting a pirate a distance away. The shield hit the wall and soared toward him as he grabbed the nearby pirate, pinning his arms behind his back and kneeing him in the head. Flipping the now unconscious man into a wall, Steve caught the shield in time to bring it up as a pirate moved to attack him. Steve dodged a punch and jumped up, using his entire body to flip the man forward and onto his back. Getting back onto his feet, he then held up the shield and punched it, sending the shockwave into the pirate's head and knocking him out.

"_Don't move_," a pirate said in French, cocking his weapon.

Steve glanced over at him, figuring out what move he could do to disarm him, but before it came to that, a shot rang out and the pirate crumpled to the deck of the ship. Rumlow landed seconds later as Steve said, "Thanks."

"Yeah, you seemed pretty helpless without me," Rumlow scoffed.

Rest of the STRIKE team followed and Steve holstered the shield as they all moved forward. Natasha caught up with him, slipping off the parachute harness as she asked, "What about the nurse that lives across the hall from you? She seems kind of nice."

Steve was proud of himself for not wincing as he thought about Kate, the woman who'd seen him have a panic attack after he'd gotten back from the club. He still could hardly make eye contact with her when he saw her in the hall. Besides, he'd already vowed not to date someone that reminded him of his dead significant others.

"Secure the engine room, then find me a date," Steve insisted. He figured pushing it off was the best he could hope for at this rate.

"I'm multitasking!" Nat retorted leaping over the railing.

Racing forward once he was alone, Steve jumped up, bouncing off the wall before lancing on a higher up railing and then shot a listening device at the window.

_ "I don't like waiting. Call Durand. I want this ship ready to move when the ransom comes." _

_ "Yes, Batroc._" There was a pause and then a sound of dialing, "_Durand, start the engines."_

Steve moved into a good vantage point, crouched low and waiting for the signal as he kept listening as the man in the room with Batroc lamented, "_Radio silence from SHIELD, Batroc_."

"Targets acquired."

"STRIKE In position."

"Natasha, what's your status?" Steve asked quietly. For several moments there was nothing, so he frowned and repeated, "Status, Natasha."

"Hang on!" Natasha retorted loudly. Several more moments passed and Steve started to feel anxiety forming until Natasha announced, "Engine room secure."

"On my mark," Steve commanded. "Three...two...one."

Steve immediately came out of hiding, racing forward and throwing his shield. It shattered through the glass and hit the wall behind it. He leaped up and through the window, knocking the other pirate down, but Batroc fled. Grabbing his shield from the wall, Steve pursued, gritting his teeth as Rumlow said, "Hostages en route to extraction. Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. _ Hostiles are still in play_."

Leaping off a staircase, Steve glanced back and forth before he said, "Natasha, Batroc's on the move. Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages." Steve still kept an eye on his surroundings, but apparently not a close enough eye as he said, "_Natasha_."

Batroc leaped from behind a corner and Steve barely had enough time to put up his shield to block the kick. Stumbling back and then flipping over, Steve had to put up the shield again to block yet another kick. Steve fell backward, landing hard onto the ground as Batroc kicked again, his foot landing inches from Steve's crotch. Glancing at Batroc, Steve got up, taking a kick to the side as his opponent got up as well. Steve held up the shield, but after Batroc's kick failed, he flipped over him, seeming to try and gain an advantage.

Steve turned around, raising his shield and the two resumed their fight. Steve kept blocking attacks until he spotted an opening, using it to shove his shield forward and send Batroc flying. Unfortunately, this just seemed to motivate him more as he flipped up and raced forward, a renewed fury in him as he kicked harder than before. Steve let the man reach closer just so he could grab his shoulders and knee him repeatedly in the gut. For a moment the fight looked over, but then Batroc did a series of flips and cartwheels back to give himself some distance.

"_I thought you were more than just a shield_," Batroc taunted in French.

Steve stood up taller, putting his shield on his back and pulling off his helmet. He tossed it aside as he replied in French, "_Let's see_."

This time Steve didn't hold back as he blocked kicks and punches before returning his own. Within seconds, Batroc looked winded. Steve kept going, angry that he had to prove himself, angry that this goddamn pirate voiced one of his fears, made it tangible. Steve kicked him again, but then as he was stumbling, Steve flipped back and kicked him harder than before, sending him to the ground. Unfortunately, he got back up and Steve raced forward, slamming him through the door into a room before knocking him out.

"Well, this is awkward."

Steve glanced over, panting for breath as he saw Natasha standing at one of the ship's terminals. Standing up, he demanded, "What are you doing?"

"Backing up the hard drive," Natasha replied flippantly. "It's a good habit to get into."

"Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?" Steve asked, moving closer. Once he glanced at the screen, he saw what she was doing and his fists clenched. "You're saving SHIELD intel."

"Whatever I can get my hands on."

"Our mission is to rescue hostages."

"_No_, that's _ your _mission," Natasha said, pausing to retrieve the flash drive. She pocketed it and smiled, "And you've done it beautifully."

Grabbing Natasha by the arm as she tried to walk past, stopping her in her tracks, Steve glared at her, "You just jeopardized this whole mission."

"I think that's overstating things."

A sharp beeping sound had Steve glancing over in time for Steve to spot Batroc getting up (and god, how was that man still moving?) and throwing a grenade toward them. Steve swiftly pulled his shield off his back and knocked the grenade away in one smooth motion before he wrapped his other arm around Natasha's waist and lifted her up, hopping up onto the desks and leaping forward as Natasha shot out the window. The two flew through the opening, the explosion licking at their heels. They hit the ground hard and Steve moved back up, peering over the ledge into the room that was now decimated and on fire. Leaning back down onto the ground, Steve took a moment to catch his breath.

"Okay. That one's on me," Natasha sighed.

"You're damn right," Steve snapped, pushing himself up and away. Natasha's expression was carefully blank the entire way back to the plane, but Steve had worked with her enough to know there was something going on there. As soon as they landed, Steve headed straight for the triskelion. As mad as he was at Natasha, he was even angrier at Nick. He was the only person that would have gotten Natasha to do something that stupid and reckless.

Steve took long enough to wash his face and put up his shield and comms before he stormed up to Fury's office, unable to contain his anger as he walked in, "You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?"

"I didn't lie," Fury denied. "Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours."

"Which you didn't feel obliged to share!" Steve snapped, hating Fury's double talk and half-truths (which were just lies with a better name).

"I'm not obliged to do anything," Fury insisted, still not looking at him.

"Those hostages could have died, Nick."

Nick turned around, "I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn't happen."

"Soldiers _ trust _ each other. That's what makes it an army! Not a bunch of guys running around shooting guns!"

"Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye," Nick said, raising his voice and standing up. He then softened his tone and his expression as he continued, "Look, I didn't want you doing anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."

"I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own," Steve said, pointing angrily.

"It's called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets, because nobody knows them all."

"Except you," Steve said with an angry smirk.

"You're wrong about me," Nick insisted. "I _ do _ share. _ I'm nice like that_."

Nick then got up and walked. He didn't have to say anything, Steve knew to follow. The two got onto an elevator and Steve frowned as Nick announced, "Insight bay."

"Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight," the computer said, putting a red _ access denied _ over his face on the side of the elevator.

"Director override. Fury, Nicholas J," Nick insisted, leaning against the handrail over the elevator.

"Confirmed," The computer stated, closing the doors to the elevator.

Steve stood perpendicular to Fury. For a moment he just stood in silence, his anger waning, but not leaving him. Still, he hated the silence and glanced up at the door before he said, "You know, they used to play music."

"Yeah," Fury said and Steve glanced over, knowing this was leading to some sort of story. "My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years. My granddad worked in a nice building. Got good tips. He'd walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He'd say, 'hi'. People would say, 'hi' back. Time went on, the neighborhood got rougher. He'd say 'hi'. They'd say 'Keep on steppin'." Granddad got to gripping that lunch bag a little tighter."

Steve thought back to his times in Brooklyn growing up and asked, "He ever get mugged?"

Fury laughed and shrugged, "Every week some punk would say, 'What's in the bag?'"

"What'd he do?"

"He'd show them. Bunch of crumpled ones, and a loaded .22 magnum."

Steve nodded. He understood the compulsion to protect yourself...to an extent. He himself had never wanted a gun when he'd been growing up, and even in the war, he hadn't been happy to use one. He'd wanted to stop the bullies, not kill them.

"Yeah, Granddad loved people," Fury said, moving away from the railing. "But he didn't trust them very much."

Steve glanced out the elevator only to do a double take as he spotted multiple helicarriers and dozens upon dozens of workers. Stepping next to Fury, Steve stared in shock as Fury said, "Yeah, I know. They're a little bit bigger than a .22."

The ships had massive guns along their sides. And even on the ships, more planes, all equipped with weapons were being placed on board. Heading off the elevator with Fury, Steve glanced around him, his anxiety spiking again as Nick proudly announced as they walked, "This is Project Insight. Three next-generation helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites."

"Launched from the _ Lemurian Star_," Steve added.

Fury seemed to ignore him, barely glancing at him as he continued his spiel, "Once we've got them in the air, they never need to come down. _ Continuous _ sub-orbital flight, courtesy of our new repulsor engines."

"Stark?" Steve asked, his hand clenched into a fist by his side. Of course Tony was involved in something like this. Of course he was. He'd been wrong to think for even a minute that Stark had gotten out of the weapons business, and now he'd helped propel one of the world's most devastating weapons forward.

"Eh, he had a few suggestions once he got an up-close look at our old turbines," Nick said. He then motioned toward an array of guns, "These new long-range precision guns can eliminate 1,000 hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist's DNA before he even steps outside his spider hole. We're gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen."

"Thought the punishment usually came _ after _ the crime," Steve snapped.

"We can't afford to wait that long," Fury insisted.

"Who's 'we'?" Steve retorted.

"After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once, we're way ahead of the curve."

"By holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection," Steve said. How he managed to not sneer as he said it was a mystery even to him.

"You know, I read those SSR files," Fury said, turning on him. "'Greatest generation'? You guys did some nasty stuff."

Steve's stomach churned at that. He hadn't known about all of it when he'd been in the service, but he'd known about some of it. He wasn't _ proud _ of those aspects of his time in service. He didn't relish in those things. Pushing those thoughts aside, Steve focused on Fury and said, "Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so that people could be _ free_." Steve pointed at the guns, "This isn't freedom. This is fear."

Fury turned and took a step closer, standing a little taller as he said, "SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we'd like it to be, and it's getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap."

Steve stared Fury down, unmoved and not even remotely intimidated as he replied, "Don't hold your breath."

He could see the anger in Fury's face, but he left, heading back into the elevator and then all of the way out of the building. He needed to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, hopefully y'all liked this chapter. We're now very clearly into TWS. Y'all should be pretty much in the know of what's coming. I'm excited. Y'all are excited. We're all in a hype loop.
> 
> For that reason, I am going to periodically (not every week, but some weeks) be posting two chapters in a weekend. This will specifically happen either because of a holiday where I wanna treat y'all _or_ if I feel like one of the chapters coming up is on the shorter side.
> 
> I probably would have done this last weekend with the Vivian chapter if I had thought to do it, but by the time I thought it, it was Sunday and it was just barely past when I had posted the Viv chapter.
> 
> TL;DR: Next weekend you're getting a chapter on Saturday and a chapter on Sunday.
> 
> This won't be happening every weekend and I will be letting you know the weekend prior to any weekend where it is a Saturday/Sunday double up feature.


	21. Twenty-One: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Welcome to Angst City, population: Angst™
> 
> Also, after Steve leaves Peggy's room, he says, "She doesn't deserve this," in reference to Peggy's health. Angie gets upset and talks about how that isn't how this works and how she loves and appreciates any and all time she has with Peggy.
> 
> I in no way want Angie's view on this situation to be a judgment call to anyone who has had or currently has a loved one experiencing Dementia/Alzheimers. This is not me trying to say you need to react to a situation in your life with a certain level of optimism or that you don't have a right to have a negative view on it or anything in between for that matter. The things in this chapter are specifically how Angie feels about it. I do not have the right and wouldn't want the right to tell you how to handle something like that happening in your life. You have a right to the way you feel. Obviously you don't have a right to mistreat people based on those feelings, but the feelings themselves are yours. Angie is not a conduit for judgment on that.

Steve's mind was a mess after the conversation with Fury. It was still early in the day, and he rushed to finish his paperwork before he pulled on his clothing and then left on his motorcycle. He didn't want to be at the triskelion anymore. He needed help, needed clarity. He'd thought joining SHIELD was the right thing to do, and now they had helicarriers that could kill people from miles above the Earth. Hell, he wasn't even sure what Captain America was supposed to do about something that huge.

For a moment he thought about contacting the Barnes family, but he knew he wouldn't be able to talk about all these old fears and old wounds reopening without one of them asking why. They'd want to know what happened and he didn't know how to lie to them about something that massive, something that would affect them too. He also knew he wasn't allowed to talk about something like this on the phone (his calls were almost certainly being monitored), and his schedule meant that he couldn't just drop everything to fly back to New York without getting approval. Besides, judging from the conversation in the group chat (Maggie was using her day off to 'teach these cretins how to cook a decent meal for once in their lives') things were going really well. They were all happy. He didn't want to interrupt that with his own worries.

And he was worried that Rebecca Barnes at 93 would try to fist fight Nick Fury if she found out what he was doing.

So he instead went to the Smithsonian. He'd been told weeks before about an exhibit _ about him_, but before he hadn't had a real desire to see it. It just felt more than a little self-serving to visit an exhibit solely about how great he was. Now he was pretty sure he needed to know why people thought that at all. Steve pulled a hat low over his face and then headed into the _ Captain America _ exhibit. Keeping his head down, Steve frowned as he overheard a rather excitable woman announce, "I came here years ago with my girlfriend. Back then it was the Howling Commandos exhibit, but you know, since Cap is back, it's now the _ Captain America _ exhibit. I hope they still have the stuff on everyone else! He didn't exactly win the war single-handedly, you know."

Shaking his head, Steve winced as he saw large silhouettes of himself behind words like _ the living legend and symbol of freedom_. Audio played loudly at parts. He didn't recognize the narrator at all as it boomed, "A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery, and sacrifice."

Steve continued forward, finding himself staring at pictures of himself. Pre-serum. Post-serum. Like his life could be easily divided up into those two categories, and maybe it could.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world's first super-soldier."

Steve watched parents carrying excited kids, some lifting them up to the height of him, raising the child up higher and higher as the image grew taller. The kids all giggled excitedly. Some had toy shields on their arms. Glancing over, Steve spotted a boy staring at him in awe. It was pure hero worship, and Steve smiled at him before placing a finger to his lips. The kid nodded, looking dazed. He had on a blue t-shirt with the shield on it. He practically had stars in his eyes. Steve didn't want to be mean to the kid, but at the same time, he hadn't come to this exhibit, funnily enough, looking for attention. He'd been looking for answers.

Steve headed further into the exhibit, stopping at a motorcycle. He couldn't tell if it was his exact motorcycle or a replica, either one was possible. The screen behind it showed him leading a group of men away from a ship. The narrator on that footage he remembered. It'd been the narrator for all his propaganda films and he remembered doing that shot. It was staged. Everything had already been done when the camera crew had shown up, but they'd still needed that damn shot.

Steve shook his head and moved forward, staring up at a display. Faceless mannequins in their uniforms standing in front of a larger than life photo of all of them. Steve felt dizzy, near passing out as he stared up at Bucky's face. He looked so serious in that picture, but it'd taken so long to get him to stop laughing at how ridiculous it all was. He'd called it their _ Big Damn Hero _ portrait. And then gave a dazzling fake smile before announcing, "Brought to you by The United States Government, Stark Industries, and God himself!"

All the Howlies had gotten in on it at some point, reciting it in unison. Everyone had expected him to put an end to their shenanigans, but he hadn't been able to stop smiling or laughing long enough to give any of them any sort of reprimand. Not that he'd wanted to reprimand them in the first place, but he was supposed to be their 'leader'.

"Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission: taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division."

Turning, every footstep Steve took felt heavy and heartbreakingly long as he stared at a glass memorial for Bucky. He read it quickly and felt a gurgling of nausea in him. It said Bucky enlisted. This memorial said Bucky enlisted, but Bucky hadn't. He'd been drafted. Maybe the government didn't want to admit they'd dragged one of the best men who'd ever lived into Hell. Maybe they didn't want to admit that he'd died in a war he'd been forced into. Maybe it was just cleaner and easier to pretend he'd stayed for God and country instead of the fact that he'd stayed for one man.

"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Command to give his life in service of his country."

Steve took a step closer, almost putting a hand out to touch the picture before he stopped himself. Shaking his head, he moved on. He kept going until he paused as he saw a memorial. Just a small one, and when he did, he nearly fell to his knees. There was a color photograph of Vivian. _ Vivian Peshkova_.

Steve let his fingertips brush along Vivian's photograph and he blinked back tears. She'd been gorgeous. She'd been one of the best people he'd ever known. The passage talked about her time as a nurse back in Brooklyn before she enlisted. It mentioned her time as a POW and her murder. It listed people she saved. Steve had to clear his throat and squeeze his eyes shut as she saw the names of all the Howling Commandos on there. There was a small screen taking up part of the space of the exhibit and he hit play next to it, his eyes widening as he saw _ Peggy_.

“I only had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Peshkova once during the war,” Peggy said in the footage being shown behind the glass. “It was back before we’d picked a person for the serum, you see. We were visiting troops already in the war to see if someone out there had the qualifications we were looking for. Long before I met her though, I’d heard about her. The soldiers were mad about her. Talked about how she was a genius in the field. More than one of them said she’d saved their lives or the lives of their friends. Of course, she was rightfully promoted rather rapidly, put in charge of the nurses in her unit. If she’d been a man, she would have been a captain, and would have absolutely been a contender for the serum.”

“What’d you talk about?” a voice asked off-screen.

Peggy laughed, “Oh, she was on her first break that I think she’d been on in days, drinking bad coffee and getting five minutes of quiet before she had to dive back in. We talked about how hard it was for women to get respect. She was a bright woman, and I remember being very impressed with her. I like to believe that if given the chance, we would have been good friends.”

Steve's nails dug into the palm of his hands, his gaze tearing up as the interviewer asked, “Did Rogers or Barnes ever talk to you about her?”

Peggy hesitated, her expression becoming shuttered and serious as she confessed, “Ms. Peshkova had actually mentioned Barnes to me in our conversation, had mentioned their intention to become married. It was clear to me, even from that short interaction, that she adored Barnes with everything in her. By the time I met Barnes though…she’d already been taken from him. And he didn’t usually speak of her. Sometimes he would though. He’d smile and start talking about her, and then he’d just stop and he’d just stare off into the distance, and then Steve would change the subject. Steve mentioned a few things about her. It was clear he admired her a great deal.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He'd more than admired Vivian. He'd loved her. She'd had just as much of a hold on his heart as Bucky did. And not for the first time, he wondered if he'd shown it enough, if Viv had been as certain of his love as she had been of Bucky's when she'd died.

“And the rest of the Howling Commandos?”

“Oh,” Peggy smiled. “They talked about her like she was a myth. Still did years after the war ended. More than one of them, when it came time for them to settle down and have kids, named their children after her. Apparently the name Vivian wasn’t uncommon in the descendants of the 107th in general.”

“And now she’s taught about in nursing schools.”

“That she is, and it’s absolutely deserved. That woman was a hero, and I feel honored that I got to meet her at all,” Peggy nodded. “I just wish she could have had more time in this world.”

Wiping away tears, Steve continued away and into a theater where a movie was starting. The place was almost empty, but still he sat in the back. In the film, Peggy smiled demurely and sipped from a delicate china teacup before setting the cup down as someone off camera asked, “Did Captain America have an effect on you personally?”

Peggy tilted her head, “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry, I just mean it must have been a remarkable experience to get to work with him.”

“Well,” Peggy began, staring off into the distance, “a life in the military demands a certain amount of detachment, particularly from a woman. Sometimes it’s, it’s necessary to give and receive orders without dwelling on the cost of the individual.” Peggy paused and inhaled sharply, “The mission trumps all. Steve never let me forget that these were real lives and real deaths that we were dealing with.”

The serum, for better or for worse, made it so that he remembered everything. Every face. Every smile. Every interaction. Every moment. And maybe part of it was selfless, but Steve wondered if that desire to have everyone remember the cost of war was less selfless, but rather his own desire to spread it around or even just limit the impact on himself. Maybe he'd rallied everyone like that just to keep the ghosts at bay from himself.

“He also treated me like a person,” Peggy huffed out a laugh, “which I very much appreciated.”

“We recently spoke to several soldiers who credited Captain America with saving their lives.”

“Oh, well, there are a lot of men that could give you that interview.”

“This was outside Stalingrad, 1945.”

“Ah, yes,” Peggy said, setting down her cup. “That was a difficult winter. We were in Russia. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…Captain Rogers…he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over 1,000 men, quite a few of which have gone on to do great things. A few of them I even consider to be friends. Even after he died, Steve was still changing the world.”

Steve opened the compass and stared at Peggy's picture. Peeling it back, he then stared at Vivian and Bucky. Three chances. Three lives. All of them, one way or another, out of his reach.

“I understand you were the last person to speak to Captain Rogers before his plane went down?”

Steve's gaze snapped up, horror building in him as he saw the way Peggy's eyes became haunted. His heart raced and he wondered how much attention he would draw to himself if he just _ ran_. Why would they ask Peggy about this moment?

“I w-was, yes,” Peggy cleared her throat, her voice having trembled its way through the words as her eyes teared up.

_ “ _ Could you tell us what he said _ ?” _

Peggy’s bottom lip trembled and she inhaled sharply before fidgeting with the teacup. No words came out for a moment, and Steve wondered just how much damage he'd done to this woman with his decision to end it all. After several moments though, Peggy seemed to pull herself together long enough to explain, “Simply that if he didn’t do what he was doing, that a lot of people were going to die. He wanted it known that it was his…that it was his choice to save us all.” A single tear did slip down Peggy’s cheek then as she whispered, “He always was the best of us.”

Steve left the Smithsonian soon after that, finding himself heading to that address he'd seen in Peggy's file. The nursing home. He needed to see her, talk to her. Apologize for staying away so long. _ Just something_. And maybe, maybe she could help him in return. It felt selfish to drop back into her life like this seeking guidance, but she was one of the only people he thought _ could _ give him that.

Taking off his hat as he entered the building, Steve nodded as he was pointed toward a room. Outside the room, an older woman was just leaving, and Steve watched with bated breath, but then the woman turned around and it was Angie. Angie glanced over at him and smiled, calling over, "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Come on over, English'll love that you're here."

Blushing, Steve headed over and cleared his throat, "Ma'am, are you sure?"

Angie rolled her eyes, "Of course she wants to see you. You know, the only heads you're supposed to be bashing in with that shield of yours are _ the enemy_, right?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve said with a smile. Glancing into the room, Steve paused. Peggy was sitting up and staring out the window with a soft smile on her face. Angie stood next to him and rested a hand on his arm as she reassured him, "Go on. She's having a good day right now, so now's the time to do it."

Steve nodded and Angie reached out to open the door, but then Steve blushed when Angie teased, "Remember, Rogers, that's _ my girl _ now. No fair trying to steal her away from me."

"Wouldn't dare, ma'am. Besides, pretty sure you would win that fight," Steve said with a smile.

Angie went in first. Even if she hadn't, Steve was pretty sure Peggy would have seen her first. They seemed drawn together, and Peggy immediately smiled indulgently before they kissed. Angie gently stroked Peggy's soft, grey hair and whispered, "Hey, English. I brought you a visitor."

It was then that Peggy looked at him and Steve smiled weakly, blinking back tears as Peggy's eyes went wide and she breathed out, "_Steve_. You finally came to visit. Let me see you."

Steve moved closer and then sat next to the bed, taking Peggy's hand in his as Angie kissed Peggy's cheek and whispered something into her ear before heading out of the room. Gently squeezing Peggy's hand, Steve smiled, "Yeah, Peggy. Sorry. I know I missed our date. Think the Stork club still has our reservation?"

Peggy shook her head and laughed, teasing, "You are still the most incorrigible man I've ever met."

Steve nodded to the numerous pictures by her bedside and grinned, "None of that bunch ever managed to be quite as cumbersome as I was, huh?"

Peggy pat his hand and smiled at her pictures, "Oh, Angie can be...incorrigible in her own way. She's almost as stubborn as you are. Almost as brazen too."

"How'd you two meet?"

Peggy's smile was soft as she confessed, "I'd moved to New York after the war, was working for the SSR stateside. There was this diner that I would go to, and Angie was a waitress there. The food was decent, but there were other diners with better food. Other diners with better coffee, better booths, better pie, but none of the other ones had _ her_. I went there to see _ her_. She had a smile that was somehow even brighter than yours. Beautiful curly brown hair, and bright blue eyes. She was joyful and exuberant and she looked at me like believing in me was instinct."

"I know what that's like," Steve said with a smile.

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" Peggy mused. "Barnes looked at you like that."

"Vivian did too," Steve nodded, and then paused, "Are you mad at me?"

Peggy shook her head, "No. I was falling in love with you, but you and I both know there's a difference between falling in love with someone and experiencing someone who's part of your soul. Angie and I..." Peggy paused and then whispered, "Angie makes me believe in soulmates."

"I'm glad you have each other," Steve whispered. He nodded to all the pictures. "When I read about your life, about you founding SHIELD, getting married to the love of your life, being a parent, and just being this beacon of light for so many people..." Steve paused and then smiled, "You should be proud of yourself, Peggy."

Peggy smiled softly, glancing at the pictures, "Mmm, I have lived a life. My only regret is that you didn't get to live yours." Steve stared down at his lap and Peggy gently asked, "What is it?"

Steve struggled for the words for a moment, wondering exactly how to say what he was feeling. It was complicated. Messy. He did his best to explain that as he said, "For as long as I can remember, I just wanted to do what was right. I guess I'm not quite sure what that is anymore. And I thought I could throw myself back in and follow orders. Serve. It's just not the same."

Peggy laughed, a twinkle in her eyes, "You're always so dramatic." Steve smiled, but wasn't sure he agreed as Peggy insisted, "Look, you _ saved the world_. We rather...mucked it up."

"_You _ didn't," Steve retorted. "Knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay."

Peggy took his hand tighter in his, bringing it close to him as she said, "The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over."

She then went into a coughing fit, and Steve quickly rushed to pour her a glass of water. Coming back, he carefully held it in front of her, whispering her name to get her attention. She looked at him, and her expression was different. She looked different. Her eyes widened slightly and Steve felt his heart clench tightly as she breathed, "_ Steve _."

"Yeah?" Steve answered quietly.

Peggy gasped, her body trembling, tears filling her eyes as she sobbed, "You-you-you're _ alive_! You came...you came back!"

"Yeah, Peggy," Steve said, swallowing back his own tears.

She shook her head, sobbing quietly, "It's been so long. _ So long_."

Steve nodded, desperately trying not to cry, to let Peggy know that this was killing him as he whispered, "Well, I couldn't leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance."

Peggy pulled him into a hug and Steve hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her. She sobbed harder though and soon Steve felt a tap on his shoulder. Glancing up at Angie, Steve nodded as the woman gently accepted Peggy into her arms, smiling as Peggy whispered, "Angie, darling, look! It's _ him_, it's Steve!"

"Yeah, English," Angie whispered fondly, gently brushing away tears from Peggy's face with her fingertips. "Told you he wouldn't stay away forever. Didn't I?"

Peggy nodded and Angie gave her a soft kiss on the lips before whispering, "I'm gonna go set up a day for this young man to take us all dancing, all right? You and I can show him our moves, but for now you need to rest."

Peggy nodded and Steve left the room as she settled back into her bed, her breathing relaxing as she drifted back to sleep. As he stood in the hallway with Angie, he choked out, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Sweetheart, I know you're used to solving everyone's problems, but this isn't something you can hit or strategize around," Angie said soothingly. "The only thing we can do is love her and be there for her."

"She doesn't deserve this," Steve whispered.

"Don't do that," Angie said with a frown. Steve glanced at her, his eyes widening as she said, "This ain't about deserving or not deserving. It's just what happened. This isn't a punishment. That's not how the world works. We make what we can of the time we're given on this planet. Some people do bad things with their time, like Peggy's brother, god rest his soul. Some people die as young heroes, like your Barnes and Peshkova. Do you think them dying young was a punishment?"

Steve shook his head fervently, tears slipping down his cheeks as he choked out, "_No_. Never in a million years."

"Then don't put that kind of thinking on her. My Peggy wasn't always perfect, but she was her own woman, and she's my wife. This time I have with her may not seem ideal to other people, but it's time with her, so I couldn't ask for anything better."

Steve smiled softly, "You deserve her a hell of a lot more than I ever did."

"Only because I'm actually in love with her. Peggy told me about how you were with Barnes. I'm sorry you lost him. She suspected that you were with Vivian as well."

"I was."

"I'm sorry for your losses, but I want you to think of how you'd feel if you had both of them for as long as I've had my Peggy, think about how you would respond if someone said that you'd get more years with them, but their memories were going to start going. Would you throw that time away? Would you see it as a curse? Or would you just love them so much that nothing could ever take that away from them?"

"Thank you, Angie," Steve said, hugging her tightly.

Angie laughed and hugged him back while whispering, "Just make sure to visit again, handsome."

"Will do, Angie, but...right now I've got somewhere to be."

Angie nudged him with a smile, and Steve headed out. He wiped at his face and cleared his throat, getting onto his bike and then pulling out his phone. He looked up the address of the VA before memorizing the route and then going.

Once he got there, he headed up to the front desk where there was a woman working. Her name tag said _ Elizabeth_. She was inputting something into her computer when he cleared his throat. She glanced up and her eyes widened. For a moment she didn't say anything, but then when she did, her voice gave a slight tremble as she said, "Can I help you, sir?"

Steve smiled softly, "Yeah, I was wondering where I could find Sam Wilson?"

"You...you know Sam Wilson?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah, we run together in the morning."

Elizabeth nodded, pointing down the hall while she said, "He's currently having a group session. Go down this hall, take a right, and then go all the way down that one. Doors usually stay open. Can't miss it."

Steve nodded and then smiled, "Thank you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded, looking more than a little dazed, and he followed her instructions. He knew he hadn't been led astray as he heard a woman as she said, "The thing is, I think it's getting worse." Steve moved up and stood off to the side. His gaze locked with Sam's for just a moment, but Sam didn't make any move about it, just let him stand off to the side as the woman continued, "A cop pulled me over. He thought I was drunk. I...swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED."

"Some stuff you leave there," Sam said. Steve stood up straighter as Sam spoke. He had a way of speaking that made it feel like he was speaking to every single person in the room individually somehow. "Other stuff you bring back. It's our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase, or in a little man-purse? It's up to you."

Steve then backed off, watching as everyone left. Some people glanced down the hallway at him, looking curiously as they talked to their friends. None of them approached him though other than Sam after he'd made his rounds speaking to the people in his group.

"Look who it is: the running man," Sam teased, gathering up his pamphlets from the table.

"Caught the last few minutes," Steve said, leaning against the corner of the wall. "It's pretty intense."

"Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret," Sam said, looking over at him.

"You lose someone?"

Sam nodded, "My wingman, Riley. Flying a night mission. Standard PJ rescue op. Nothing we hadn't done 1,000 times before...until an RPG knocked Riley's dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It's like I was up there just to watch."

Bucky telling Steve that Vivian was dead flashed in his mind and for a moment he could feel flames. He could feel heat. He could feel a reckless desire to search even for a body, to just bring her home in some way, to not just leave her there in that Hell. And then he could see Bucky falling and he could swear he could feel the icy wind slicing across his face. He could feel his grip on the metal slipping. He could feel his whole world slipping out from him as he watched the man he loved fall away.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered, because what else could he say? Could he explain those heartaches? Could he put it into words for Sam?

"After that, I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?"

He could _ feel _ the Valkyrie, and Steve cleared his throat, standing up taller, banishing the vision as he redirected the conversation, "But you're happy now, back in the world?"

"Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero, so hell yeah," Sam said with a smile. "What? You're thinking about getting out?"

Steve shook his head, "No." A niggling burst of pain erupted in his heart and mind and then he sighed and shrugged, "Maybe. I don't know. To be honest, I don't know what I would do with myself if I did."

"Ultimate fighting?" Sam teased. Steve laughed as Sam continued, "Just a great idea off the top of my head." He then stepped closer, "Seriously, you can do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?"

Steve pictured that day, dancing in the living room with Bucky and Vivian. He pictured lazy days drawing them and just getting to love them. His lips tingled as he remembered their kisses, the way they held him and just _ saw _ him. And then he tried to picture something that came anywhere near that level of happiness that he'd had in those days back when they were alive that he still had, that he still could have. 

"I don't know," Steve said honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Saturday chapter after months and months of Sunday chapters. I think. Maybe it's less than that. Maybe it's more than that. Time is a mystery.
> 
> Y'all get a Vivian chapter tomorrow, so that'll be fun.
> 
> Fun fact: mentioning Peggy's brother doing bad things is a reference to how the writers revealed that season 3 of Agent Carter was going to be about how Peggy's brother Michael wasn't actually dead. He actually faked his death and joined a criminal organization. The war crimes that Peggy was going to be accused of, the ones that the file said were done by M. Carter, were done by Michael Carter, not Margaret Carter.


	22. Twenty-two: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update of this weekend! If you haven't read yesterday's update, please read that first. Also I accidentally called this chapter twenty-six at first and idk why.
> 
> Warnings: Beyond an extremely detached description of Fury's car being attacked, I can't think of anything.
> 
> As always, if something needs a warning, let me know.

Vivian picked at the cuffs on her wrists as she sat in the back of the car. Bucky, no, the _ soldier _ was next to her, staring unblinkingly at the floor. He was in full gear, but she wasn't sure why. It was the middle of the goddamn day, so it wasn't like he'd _ blend in _ to the city. He was over six foot tall and over two hundred pounds of muscle and metal. He was going to stand out. However, there was no way that kind of fact had escaped the notice of Pierce, so pointing it out was redundant. If Pierce was having this happen, then it was all part of his plan. Agent Tanner was driving the car, looking nervous as he stared along traffic. He was waiting for orders.

"So...who does Pierce want us to kill this time?" Vivian asked, breaking the silence.

"Pierce doesn't want you to kill anyone," Tanner deflected. "He wants you to watch."

"Great, fantastic. We've moved to that stage of his lunacy. Who does he want _ the soldier _ to kill then?"

"Fury."

Vivian laughed, "Of course. Figured it was only going to be a matter of time before Pierce did that. Although I thought he'd do it with Insight. What got Fury's expiration date moved up?"

Tanner didn't respond, instead gripped his hands on the steering wheel tighter and Vivian laughed before sighing, "Oh wait, no, let me guess. It's much more fun to guess. It can't be just because Pierce is racist. If that were the case, Fury would have died years ago or he'd survive this whole thing to be the fall guy in case this plan didn't work. White people in power love to pin crimes on black men. It's bordering on a fetish."

Tanner's jaw twitched and Vivian teased, "Maybe it's because Fury has a _ cooler name_. I mean, Pierce is pretty good in terms of villain territory, but _ Fury_? Director _ Fury_? God, that's so perfect. Almost too perfect. Damn near biblical. _ The fury of a righteous man _ and all that_. _ Do you think he made up that name when he found out he was going to be director of SHIELD? Or maybe he was recruited into service just for his name."

"Hydra doesn't goddamn recruit people based on their _ names_."

"Would make about as much sense as the _ actual _ criteria they use," Vivian said with a grin. Tanner turned his radio louder which did nothing because no one was giving any instructions yet, so Vivian asked, "Do you think you can turn up _ silence _ ? Like what the fuck is your plan there? You're just going to blow out your eardrums when you finally get your orders like a good boy, _ Agent Tanner_."

"Shut up."

"By the way, I am pretty sure the answer that is the actual truth is that Fury is figuring out about Pierce's big bad Insight plan. And chances are, Fury will want to stop Hydra from, you know, _ taking over the world_."

"It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is Pinky," Vivian said, grinning as Tanner glanced back at her, looking offended. Vivian then sighed, "You're right. I shouldn't call you Pinky. The whole point of that joke was that the character was actually secretly brilliant. That's never going to be the joke with you. You just really are that dumb."

"I'm not the one in cuffs."

"That's a weird standard to have on intelligence," Vivian mused.

"Target engaged," a voice said from the radio. "Stand by for further instructions."

"Oh, this should be interesting," Vivian grinned. "I wonder who they sent to be the first line of attack against the man who's been running SHIELD for multiple decades. He's kind of a certified badass. He's survived things you wouldn't believe, come out nearly unscathed except for the eye. He's going to absolutely _ slaughter _ that first round of agents."

"You don't know that," Tanner insisted. "Besides, shouldn't you hope we don't have to use _ him_?"

Tanner glanced back at the Soldier, who still sat motionless. He didn't look around. He didn't make a sound. He just kept staring forward and Vivian's heart ached for Bucky. When he was the Soldier, it was such a _ hollow _ existence. Vivian knew what that was like from experience, remembered how confusing it could be and just how empty the world was.

"Doesn't matter what I hope. I just know what kind of people Hydra has and what kind of person Fury is, or at least I know what his files say he is," Vivian bluffed.

"You don't have access to his files. You don't even have access to the soldier's files," Tanner scoffed, seeming pleased with himself.

"You don't have access to his files either," Vivian pointed out.

"Course I don't. Only people who have access to them are Pierce, Zola, and STRIKE team's techs, Davis and Young."

"Oh, look who thinks he can be part of STRIKE. You know, just learning their names won't make them give a shit about you," Vivian said, grinning wildly, now absolutely ecstatic that Tanner had been sent on this mission. "Hell, they'd just as soon have the soldier kill _ you _ and just say you got in the way."

The Soldier was staring blankly ahead, not showing any sign of paying attention to the conversation in general, but Tanner was rattled. She could tell. She could see the sweat dripping down his neck, could see his hands shaking. She could see him realizing that he was expendable, but she didn't think he knew just how monumentally he'd just screwed up. Before she could tease him further, Rumlow got into the passenger seat, looking annoyed as he snapped, "Drive."

Tanner did as he was told, although he was still visibly shaken, and after a few feet stopped to let Rollins get into the very back of the car. Vivian could feel Rollins stare at the back of her neck, but she ignored him. She stayed focused forward as Tanner drove, smirking as Rumlow snapped, "What the fuck is wrong with you? You look like you're about to piss yourself."

"Hecate was just saying--"

"_Jesus fucking Christ_, Tanner. How many times do you gotta be told not to talk to that bitch? How are you this fucking stupid?"

"I didn't mean to, it just _ happened_, and--"

Rumlow slapped him across the face, cutting him off before he pulled out his radio, "Update."

"Fury escaped the blockade."

"Then find a way to redirect him toward us or find a way for us to intersect."

"Understood."

A location showed up on the map on the windshield of the car and Vivian bit her bottom lip as Tanner threw the car into gear before driving off. They drove to an intersection and then pulled off to the side. Once they were parked, Vivian realized that they could still the intersection, but it wasn't a place where typically someone would look for their car either. A flashing light appeared on the map on their windshield. Rollins handed a weapon over to the soldier and Rumlow turned around in his seat and said, "You have your orders."

The soldier nodded and got out of the car, walking out into the middle of the intersection. A few people honked at him as they drove around him, but he didn't react. He just stood there, waiting. Vivian's heart raced, because she knew all Rumlow would have to do was to just tell Bucky to let himself get run over and he would _ do it_. He'd just take that pain, that damage, that potential quick and awful death. Thankfully, Rumlow was focused on the mission, focused on getting this done, and so instead he spoke into his comms as a heavily damaged SUV approached, "That's the target."

The soldier slowly raised the weapon, completely uninvested in the events unfolding before him as he fired. The weapon sent a mine under the SUV and attached itself to the undercarriage. A second later, it exploded, sending the car flying up and over into the air. The soldier merely stepped out of the way, looking less like he was avoiding an exploding vehicle and more like he was just avoiding a minor inconvenience in a hallway. It was a horrific sight, made even more horrific by just how disinterested in the outcome the soldier was. This wasn't an act of malice. It wasn't an act of terror. It wasn't revenge. It was _ nothing_.

The soldier then strode forward, purposeful, but not fast. There was still no real drive in any movement. He didn't care whatsoever about what he was doing or how he was doing it. He was a puppet, a toy soldier. He was a body being moved as Bucky's soul resided somewhere in a locked box inside, somewhere the soldier couldn't reach, somewhere _ Vivian _ couldn't reach. He ripped the door off the car, and then looked inside. After several moments, he came back to the car and stood outside the door.

"Mission report," Rumlow snapped.

"Target escaped," the soldier responded, his voice muffled by the mask.

"_Shit_," Rumlow snapped and got out of the car. He ran over to the wreck and took one look at it before he ran back and shouted, "Get in the car, you fucking moron!"

The soldier did as he was told, and Rumlow got into the passenger seat before snapping, "We're going to have to try again. That fucking bastard found a way to carve his way through the goddamn street. Jesus. Where the fuck would that man even go?"

"I think I know," Tanner said quietly.

"Then drive, idiot!" Rumlow snarled.

Vivian rolled her eyes at Rumlow's anger. Normally she thought Tanner wasn't good for anything (because he usually wasn't), but she was pretty sure that in this case, Tanner _ did _ know where Fury would go. There really was only one person in all of DC that Vivian knew beyond a shadow of a doubt could be trusted. And she figured Fury would have that exact same thought process in mind. There was no way Fury would think of anyone other than Steven Grant Rogers to turn to when it was so clear that SHIELD was compromised.

There was no way that an assassination attempt of this magnitude would have even gotten off the ground if they didn't have deep access within SHIELD. They'd known when he'd be leaving the triskelion. They knew what car he'd be driving. They even knew what paths he would take _ as _ he was taking them. Nick Fury was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. He'd be able to follow the clues at least partway. He probably didn't know it was Hydra, but he knew SHIELD was no longer safe. And that meant he'd be too paranoid to go to any lifelong SHIELD or government agents.

No, he was going to Steve, and that meant that Hydra was fucking up royally. Hydra was fucking up in a way that Vivian had been waiting for over the course of decades. The very notion was almost unbearably exciting. They were exposing a plot to _ Captain America _ days before it was ready to be implemented. More importantly, and the bigger reason they were absolutely screwed beyond belief was the fact that they were bringing the fight to _ Steven Grant Rogers_.

Last time Steve Rogers had been given advanced warning of a Hydra plot to take over the world, he'd gotten less than a day to prepare, yet still he'd killed Schmidt and crashed their best weapons into the fucking Arctic. Even before then, Steve had dismantled Hydra over months, broken apart their structures. And then with a single plan created with less than a day to prepare, he'd managed to send Hydra completely underground. He'd destroyed their leadership, broken their ranks. No, he hadn't killed them entirely, but the fact that Hydra was still alive was a fluke.

This time, Steve had _ days _to figure out the plan. Days to orchestrate one of his own. Steve would have enough time to put together a team, to rally those around him. He had enough time to save the world. Because that's what Steve Rogers did. Doing the right thing, consequences be damned, was the core to Steve Rogers. It was his very heart and soul.

As the car sped toward their destination, Vivian smiled out the window and wondered where just where Steve would shove those helicarriers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I like this chapter so much, but I do.
> 
> Also, in completely unrelated news, I started watching Killing Eve recently and became obsessed with the idea of Jodie Comer being my Natasha.


	23. Twenty-Three: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angsty thoughts from steve in the first paragraph and some violence considering the elevator fight scene is in this chapter, but otherwise I can't think of anything.

_ What makes you happy_?

Hours later and Steve still didn't have a good answer for Sam's question. He'd ridden his bike around DC, desperately trying to come up with some answers. Before he'd woken up in this century, even when he was in the war, he hadn't had trouble answering a question like that. Not that anyone was asking him that question, but he'd known it. Parts of it had been out of his reach, but not all of it, not like it was now. Then again, the last time he'd been truly, completely happy was before Pearl Harbor. He wondered deliriously if the Japanese had any idea that when they bombed America that they'd started a chain reaction that would ruin his life. He sure as hell hadn't known that on that December morning.

Steve shook his head and parked his bike next to his apartment building before heading upstairs. Thoughts that maudlin weren't helpful, and the last thing he needed was to have another panic attack in front of Nurse Kate yet again. As he hurried up the steps, he wanted to wince as he heard that very voice.

"So sweet. That's so nice."

Steve waved carefully at Kate as she sidled out of her apartment. Her phone was tucked between her ear and her shoulder as she carried a load of laundry. She waved back, continuing her conversation, and Steve wondered in that moment if he should offer to let her use his machines. After all, even if he wasn't going to date this woman, surely he could still be friends with her, right?

"I got to go though. Okay, bye." Pausing and turning as Kate finished her phone call, Steve smiled softly as she threw her phone into her laundry bag while explaining, "My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac. Yeah."

"Hey, if you want..." Steve said, deciding to just bite the bullet and make the offer. "If you want, you're welcome to use my machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement."

Kate smiled and tilted her head as she teased, "Oh, yeah? What's it cost?"

"A cup of coffee?" Steve asked nervously. He realized as he said it that it sounded more like he was asking her out on a date, but he then realized it would be even more awkward to try to explain that it wasn't a date. Surely doing that would make it seem like it would have been even more than a date or even worse, just come across as insulting.

Kate smiled and sighed, "Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs, and you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward, so..."

"Ah, well, I'll keep my distance," Steve said with a smile. He remembered those late days that his ma and Viv would have working in the hospital. He remembered how much Viv would stay away from him until she was certain she'd scrubbed every inch of her skin clean. Sometimes she'd have scrubbed her skin so raw that Bucky would say her skin was pinker than bubblegum.

"Hopefully not too far," Kate said, still smiling warmly at him. Steve nodded, and headed toward his door only to stop as Kate said, "Oh, and I think you left your stereo on."

"Oh. Right, thank you," Steve said, giving her a tight smile before he waited for her to head down the stairs. As soon as she did, Steve frowned and glanced at his door. He hadn't left a stereo on. He knew he hadn't. Leaning in slightly, Steve realized with a start though that there _ was _ music playing in his apartment. Heading quietly down the hallway, Steve opened the window to the outside of the building before he carefully climbed down and then headed up the fire escape by his room.

It'd taken some very quiet maneuvers to force open the lock on his window, but once he did, he carefully slid it open and climbed in. There was a lull in the music and Steve paused as he snuck past his bookshelves, waiting for the music to resume before he grabbed his shield up off the ground. Some nights he'd wandered around his apartment, getting a feel for it all, making sure he had the layout memorized. At the time, he'd wondered if he'd been too paranoid, but now he was grateful for that. He could find his way in this place in the dark, knew where every single thing was. Knew where not to step.

Steve leaned around a corner, taking in the sight of the person sitting in his armchair. The record continued playing and even in the dim lighting, he could see that the person in his apartment was Nick Fury. Leaning against the wall, Steve wanted to scream in frustration, but instead settled for trying to sound as casual as possible as he said, "I don't remember giving you a key."

Fury grunted as he sat up, a pained grunt and Steve frowned as the man said, "You really think I'd need one? My wife kicked me out."

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

"I didn't know you were married," Steve said, not letting go of his shield just yet.

"A lot of things you don't know about me."

"I know, Nick," Steve said, moving forward. "That's the problem."

Steve flicked on the light and immediately saw that Nick Fury wasn't just upset. He wasn't just bruised. He was battered. Eyes widening, Steve watched as Nick, clutching a phone in his hand, raised it in a motion to stop him from saying anything before he turned the lamp back off. He then typed onto his phone before showing it to him.

_ EARS EVERYWHERE _

Steve sighed, glancing around. Of course his apartment was bugged. Of course it was. He'd never truly been free or safe. They'd always been keeping tabs on him. Even after he'd agreed to go along with their song and dance, it still hadn't been enough. _ He _ still hadn't been enough. 

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash."

_ SHIELD COMPROMISED _

Of all the messages Steve was prepared for Nick to type, that wasn't one of them. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Peggy's organization. He wondered who'd infiltrated it. He wondered how bad it was.

"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked.

Fury stood up, looking like even that was a strain on him. He held onto his side carefully, and Steve was pretty certain his ribs were broken. "Just...my friends," Nick sighed.

_ YOU AND ME _

"Is that what we are?" Steve bit out as Nick got closer.

"That's up to you."

The wall behind Fury exploded and Steve flinched as the gunshot rang out. It felt like it'd been fired right in front of his face, but he knew that wasn't the case. Two more shots happened in quick succession. Every single shot hit Fury in the chest as he collapsed to the ground. Steve rushed forward, grabbing Fury by the arm and then pulling him away from the window. He needed to get him out of the sniper's eyeline. As he moved behind a bookshelf, Steve could barely see the glint of metal through the window of his apartment. It distracted him from the smears of blood along his floor.

Once they got as far as Steve was willing to drag the man, not willing to risk more injuries, Steve froze as Fury's hand opened to reveal a USB drive. It had the SHIELD insignia on it and he coughed, "Don't...trust..._anyone_."

Steve took the USB drive and pocketed it, moving closer to the bookshelf as the door to his apartment slammed open. He gripped his shield tighter, preparing for battle. He didn't know who was going to be coming through that door, but whoever it was, he was prepared for them.

"Captain Rogers?"

Steve felt his stomach drop as he heard Kate's voice. Peering around the bookshelf, he saw her approach, gun drawn. The feeling of anxiety only increased as she said, "Captain, I'm Agent 13 of SHIELD. Special Service."

"Kate?" Steve asked, still in disbelief. Part of him understood perfectly well what was happening though. She'd never been who she said she was.

"I'm assigned to protect you."

"On whose order?" Steve demanded.

Kate moved forward, staring down at Nick in horror before she gasped, "_His_."

She immediately dropped to her knees, checking for a pulse before pulling a walkie talkie out of her scrubs and announcing, "Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs."

"Do we have a 20 on the shooter?" a dispatcher replied.

Steve glanced around the bookcase again, glancing through his window. He glared as he saw a figure moving away on the opposite roof and bit out, "Tell him I'm in pursuit."

Steve then ran and put up his shield, crashing through his own window and soaring between the buildings, crashing through yet another one before he rolled to his feet on the other side. Getting up, Steve raced through the building, glancing up through the skylight as he could still see that man racing forward at a speed that was baffling. He was _ fast_. Steve crashed through walls and pushed himself further, leaping up onto the wall to take corners as fast as he could.

He crashed through more doors, both wooden and glass, but didn't stop. He couldn't stop. If he stopped or paused for even a second, he was going to lose this shooter. He was going to lose this man and that was something he wouldn't tolerate. He raced through offices, scattering paperwork and at one moment accidentally slammed into the wall, damaging the wall itself before he righted his course and kept going.

Finally he caught up to the man and crashed through a window, leaping over to another rooftop. He'd barely landed when he threw the shield at him. His aim had been perfect. It should have been a perfect hit to the man's back to knock him off course, but instead he turned, as if sensing it coming, and he caught it in a metal hand. Steve could hear the sound of metal on metal. It rang in his ears and he found himself horrified. No one had been able to do that before.

The man then, without a word, without a single sound, turned and threw the shield back at him. Steve caught it, barely, but it was mere centimeters away from hitting him in the gut, and even though it hadn't made contact, he'd still slid back along the roof. He knew that if he'd been even a second slower, he probably would have had enough damage to his stomach to get internal bleeding. Shaking it off and rushing forward, Steve moved to the edge of the roof only to stare in shock as he realized the man was just _ nowhere_.

Steve then headed back into his apartment in time to see Fury get loaded up into the back of an ambulance. Maria's car pulled up and she got out. Her hands gripped tightly at the edge of her door and she was pale, paler than he'd ever seen before. Steve got into the passenger seat of her car, not saying anything. Maria didn't either as she got into the driver's seat and the two drove off. Her hands trembled, but not in a way that most people would notice. She got them there quickly and efficiently, following the ambulance the whole way there. In the time it took them to park and then get inside, Nick had already been taken to be prepped for surgery.

Everything seemed like it was blurring together. Steve found himself on edge in a way he hadn't been in years. Glints of metal made him snap his gaze here and there, as if the masked man from the roof would show up to finish the job.

As soon as they were able to go into the observation room, to see the surgery, Steve went in there and just stood and watched as they cut open Fury. It seemed almost impossible. No matter how much he'd disagreed with Fury, the man had always seemed kind of invincible, untouchable even.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, just watching the surgery until pounding footsteps alerted him of someone else's presence. He could see their reflection in the glass. Natasha. He winced. Natasha cared about Nick. Trusted Nick.

"Is he going to make it?" she asked. Her voice was vulnerable. Another new experience on an awful night.

"I don't know," Steve admitted.

"Tell me about the shooter."

Steve sighed, "He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm."

If it was anyone else, Steve would have considered the reaction to be nonexistent, but when Natasha's eyebrows raised and her lips parted slightly, he knew there was something there. She recognized that description. It meant _ something _ to her. Maria stepped closer on the other side of Natasha and Steve glanced down as Natasha asked, "Ballistics?"

"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," Maria admitted.

"Soviet-made," Natasha whispered.

"Yeah," Maria said with a frown.

Now Steve knew Natasha knew more than she was letting on, but before he could ask her anything, the monitor on the screen began to flatline. Immediately people started doing chest compressions, desperate for a pulse.

"_Don't do this to me, Nick_," Natasha whispered desperately. She sounded near tears.

The doctors kept doing chest compressions, kept trying to get a pulse, but nothing was happening. Nothing was working. Nick was just _ dead _. Time seemed to slow down. The operating room was loud, everyone trying what they could to get a pulse back in Nick Fury, but all Steve could hear was Natasha rapidly whispering, begging those six words over and over again. A plea to Nick and probably to God himself.

The doctors did stop and at 1:03 in the morning, Nick Fury was declared dead.

Steve left the room, needing some air. He couldn't breathe, couldn't focus. He pulled the USB drive out of his pocket, glancing at it before hiding it again. He needed to do something with the USB drive, but he also knew Natasha needed him. He figured he'd help Natasha get through this and then slip off somewhere to place it before heading into the triskelion just to keep up appearances. It was a few hours before they were allowed to see Nick's body. Natasha hadn't said a word to him, had just stoically stared ahead. Even when she was in front of his body, she didn't make a sound. He let her have as much time as he could until Maria said, "I need to take him."

Steve nodded and headed over to Natasha's side, keeping his voice as gentle as possible as he whispered, "Natasha."

Natasha nodded and placed her hand on Nick's forehead before she turned and rushed out of the room. Steve followed, his voice became more insistent as he called out, "Natasha!"

She turned toward him, her eyes glassy, but still fierce and calculating as she demanded, "Why was Fury at your apartment?"

"I don't know," Steve lied.

"Cap, they want you back at SHIELD," Rumlow said, coming up behind him.

"Yeah, give me a second," Steve said.

"They want you _ now_," Rumlow snapped.

"_Okay_," Steve said, staring at Rumlow until the man walked away.

Natasha smirked at him as he turned toward her, her voice icy as she said, "You're a terrible liar."

The smirk faded as she then turned and walked away. Steve placed his hands on his hips and wondered what he was going to do with the USB drive now that his initial plan was completely bust. He knew he couldn't take it back to the triskelion. That would be a bad move if it really was compromised like Nick had said. He also couldn't afford to not proceed as if that information was correct. Glancing over at the vending machine that was being refilled, Steve then glanced back down the hallway where the STRIKE team still stood. He couldn't break out from the hallway at this point. They'd notice and make a point in following him. It would also just look _ extremely suspicious_.

He hated the plan, but the vending machine seemed the safest place for it. The worker stepped away from a moment and Steve waited for the perfect moment where everyone wasn't looking and then he quickly slotted the USB drive behind several packets of gum. It was a move of desperation and he wasn't proud of it. He then turned and headed down the hallway to where Rumlow was waiting and announced, "Let's go."

"Yeah," Rumlow said. The two then began moving and Rumlow snapped, "STRIKE, move it out."

The sun had risen by the time they made it to the triskelion and Steve took a moment to get changed back into his stealth suit, strapping his shield to his back as he headed up to see Pierce. He figured that either he was going to need to be suited up to fight off whoever had compromised SHIELD or he was going to need to be suited up to go after whoever killed Fury. Regardless, being in civilian clothing didn't exactly strike him as the best idea.

Once he got up to Pierce's floor, Steve inhaled sharply as he saw Kate--no, Agent 13--standing and talking to Pierce. She turned and then walked past him, nodding as she said, "Captain Rogers."

Steve held back a sneer as he retorted, "Neighbor."

He sure as hell didn't trust Kate or Agent 13 or whoever she was. He didn't care if Nick had assigned the task of protecting him to her. He wondered how much SHIELD had learned about him between the bugs in his apartment and the neighbor spying on his every move.

"Oh, Captain. I'm Alexander Pierce," Pierce said, holding out a hand with a smile.

Steve shook his hand, "Sir, it's an honor."

"The honor's mine, Captain. My father served in the 101st. Come on in," Pierce said, motioning inside his office.

Steve went in, standing near a couch he was motioned to, but he didn't sit down. He set down his shield though as he was handed a set of photos. The first photo showed a much younger Nick and a much younger Alexander standing in front of each other.

"That photo was taken five years after Nick and I met, when I was at the State Department in Bogota," Pierce said as he draped his suit jacket over the back of his desk chair. "E.L.N. rebels took the embassy, and security got me out, but the rebels took hostages. Nick was Deputy Chief of the SHIELD station there, and he comes to me with a plan. He wants to storm the building through the sewers. I said, 'No, we'll negotiate'. Turned out the E.L.N. didn't negotiate, so they put out a kill order. They stormed the basement, and what do they find?"

Steve watched as Pierce came over with a new file and sat down in a chair near the couch as he continued his story, "They find it empty." Steve sat down after Pierce did, glancing over as Pierce continued, "Nick had ignored my direct order, and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil, and saved the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter."

Steve didn't know if Pierce was dirty, but he did know the man was using him. The story was too perfect. Too applicable to his life. It was perfectly chosen to get him to react in some way. After all, Steve had been told once that going after hostages wasn't going to happen. He'd disobeyed direct orders. He'd gone behind enemy lines in another country on an unsanctioned mission. He'd saved dozens of lives, including that of his best friend.

"So you gave him a promotion," Steve said instead of what he was thinking.

"I've never had any cause to regret it," Pierce insisted. Steve nodded and glanced back toward the photos. "Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?"

"I don't know," Steve lied.

"Did you know it was bugged?"

"I did, because Nick told me."

"Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?"

Steve merely stared at Pierce. He hadn't known for certain, but he'd put it together. Pierce grabbed a remote as he said, "I want you to see something."

Glancing behind him as a screen was turned on, Steve found himself staring at Batroc of all people. He was in an interrogation room of some kind as people demanded to know who hired him.

"Is that live?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, they picked him up last night at a not-so-safe house in Algiers," Pierce quipped.

"Are you saying he's a suspect?" Steve asked incredulously. "Assassination isn't Batroc's line."

"No, no. It's more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the _ Lemurian Star_. And he was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last one going to a holding company that was registered to Jacob Veech."

Pierce handed over the file of information and Steve accepted it while asking, "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

Steve flipped through the file as Pierce scoffed, "Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437."

Steve paused through looking at the documents, glancing up at Pierce as he asked, "Are you saying _ Fury _ hired the pirates? _ Why_?"

"The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick's death."

Steve thought about everything he knew about Fury, everything he'd observed, every weird behavior and brushed aside the theory. It was too ridiculous to be true. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor wasn't one of them.

"If you really knew Nick Fury, you'd know that's not true," Steve said.

"Why do you think we're talking?" Pierce asked, standing up. He then headed toward the large window in his office as he said, "See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to, because we were both realists." He leaned against the window as he continued, "We knew that, despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down." He then glanced back at Steve, "And that makes enemies."

The entire conversation was setting Steve on edge. It felt wrong. It felt like a conversation he wasn't supposed to be involved in and he could feel Pierce's gaze on him, analyzing every choice he made.

"Those people that call you dirty because you got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today makes me _ really, really angry_."

For a moment they just stood and stared at each other. Steve didn't say anything, didn't want to give anything away.

"Captain, you were the last one to see Nick alive. I don't think that's an accident. And I don't think you do either. So I'm gonna ask again. Why was he there?"

Steve decided to give some part of the truth. Even if it was just the slightest bit, to try and get Pierce off his back. After all, clearly his original story of 'I don't know' hadn't held up with Pierce any better than it had with Natasha. Sighing, Steve said, "He told me not to trust anyone."

"I wonder if that included him," Pierce mused.

"I'm sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse me," Steve said. Turning and grabbing his shield from by the couch, putting it onto his back as he started to leave.

"Captain," Pierce said, causing him to stop. "Somebody murdered my friend and I'm gonna find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they're gonna regret it." He shrugged. "Anyone."

Steve nodded, "Understood."

Steve headed onto the elevator and gripped the railings, staring out at the river and the skyline as he thought about his conversation with Pierce. He needed to get back to that USB drive and he needed to figure out what was on it, because none of what was going on was making any sense. He still didn't know for sure why Fury had hired the pirates, and that was if Fury had actually done that. Maybe he'd been investigating SHIELD, but if that was the case, why not go about it another way? Hiring notoriously violent pirates seemed like a risky gambit.

"Operations control," Steve said, focusing instead on what was at hand. Beyond his own goals, he still needed to play this out like it was as normal of a day as possible. There was no need to raise suspicions just yet.

Before the doors could shut, they were stopped and Steve grit his teeth as he heard Rumlow say, "...all STRIKE personnel on site."

"Understood," a man responded.

"Forensics," Rumlow insisted. "Cap."

Turning toward Rumlow, Steve relaxed and replied, "Rumlow."

He leaned back against the railing, his hands gripped in front of him as he stared down at the floor. Rumlow was speaking quietly to a STRIKE agent. After several moments, Rumlow then turned to him and said, "Evidence Response found some fibers up on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac team ready?"

Steve shook his head, "No, let's wait and see what it is first."

"Right," Rumlow said.

Steve glanced at Rumlow and then at the other agents. Rumlow sounded near breathless with anticipation over something. His agents, meanwhile, were keeping their hands _ on _ their weapons. They were all nervous, and they seemed ready for an _ imminent _attack. The elevator stopped and men in suits came in, asking for administration level. They all moved toward the back and Steve stepped forward.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Fury," Rumlow said. "Messed up, what happened to him."

"Thank you," Steve said, somewhat distracted as he glanced around the elevator. All of the men in the elevator had muscular physiques. It wasn't surprising for many agents, even those who handled paperwork, to be in good shape. After all, frequently agents in those departments were injured field agents taking a break until they recovered or just adjusting to their new lives. Sometimes they just liked to work out. It was odd that every single one of them seemed physically capable of holding their own in a fight though. It was even more telling that every single one of them seemed to be _ incredibly _ nervous.

The door opened again and Rollins entered with two more STRIKE agents. Steve had been at the front of the elevator, but now he realized he was completely surrounded. The doors shut and Steve gave one last look around the elevator. He then stood up straight and announced, "Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?"

Within seconds, Rollins had pulled out an electrified baton and shoved it toward him. Steve immediately diverted it, knocking it out of his arms, but he was grabbed by no less than three people who pulled him toward the side of the elevator car. Rollins slammed his hand on the elevator control panel, initiating emergency stop.

The shield was removed from Steve's back as he was slammed against the wall. An arm wrapped around his throat, clenching tightly as they shoved batons against his stomach. Electricity crackled through him and he groaned through gritted teeth, feeling like he was going to break his own jaw as a magnetic cuff was placed on his right hand. His arm moved toward the metal beams of the elevator wall and he nearly screamed from the effort of trying to pull away. Two people guided his hand toward the beam and he kicked out, knocking their grip loose before he elbowed the nearest man with his left arm.

The other cuff went flying up onto the wall near the ceiling and Steve was grateful for that. One less of those to deal with. Steve then kicked forward, sending an agent into the wall before he elbowed the next person and then slammed his head back against the face of the person holding onto his neck. The grip loosened and Steve was able to take a full breath before he then flipped him onto his back. As he was standing back up though, Rumlow kicked his hand, sending him flying back. His wrist immediately became connected to the metal beam by the cuff.

He tried desperately to pry his hand off the wall, but then glared as Rumlow raced forward with a baton and managed to block it once before it landed _ hard _ on his back. Steve screamed from the pain radiating through his body and for a moment he feared he'd lose consciousness before he managed to elbow Rumlow in the face, causing him to push back. He kicked the next agent who came toward him, sending him flying toward the camera in the elevator.

Grabbing the wrist of an agent as he thrust forward with a baton, Steve redirected it toward another agent, slamming it into their chest to send them stumbling. Jumping up, Steve then kicked both men in the chest, knocking them unconscious. Steve kicked another agent before he turned and jumped up onto the glass, using his whole body to pry himself off of the wall and backflip between two agents. He elbowed one and punched the other before focusing on Rumlow.

"Woah, big guy. I just want you to know, Cap, this isn't personal!" Rumlow snarled as he attacked.

Steve heaved in breaths as he blocked Rumlow's attack before catching the baton square in the abdomen. Steve shoved him away and dodged a few more attacks but then caught it again, screaming in pain and frustration. Grabbing Rumlow by the shoulders, Steve finally just let loose and threw him up into the ceiling, shattering some of the glass and letting him slam back into the ground. Standing above him and panting, Steve gasped, "It kind of feels personal."

Stepping on the edge of the shield and letting it fly up onto his arm, Steve then cut off the magnetic cuff from his right wrist before he opened up the elevator door. As soon as he did, he spotted over a dozen fully armed agents. The one in charge announced, "Drop the shield and put your hands in the air!"

Steve immediately turned and sliced through the cables holding the elevator, letting it free fall away from the agents trying to take him in. He braced himself and was pretty certain there was going to be a backup system to stop the elevator. He was, however, still incredibly grateful when he was proven right by the elevator screeching to a halt. He was between floors, but he pried the elevator doors open only to spot more agents racing toward the elevator.

Shutting the doors again, Steve looked out the elevator and down toward the glass roof below him. It was an enormous fall. A couple hundred at least even with the elevator sliding down as much as it did.

"Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!"

Backing up from the window and inhaling deeply, Steve then turned and held up his shield before he threw himself out of the elevator. He held out his arms to slow down his fall a little bit, but then curled up, trying to get as much of his body over his shield as he possibly could as he slammed through the glass ceiling and then down onto the ground below. He felt like his entire skeleton was rattling in his body. His ears were ringing. Glass rained all around him and he could hear screaming.

Steve gasped, struggling to catch his breath and then placed a hand down onto the mounds of glass he'd landed on. He pushed himself up with the gloved part of his hand. His entire body was going to be a bruise at this point, but he knew he couldn't stop to rest. He just got up and _ ran_. He pushed past the pain and headed to the garage. He put his helmet on and he grabbed the first SHIELD issue motorcycle he could see and rode it out. They seemed to anticipate him going that route and tried locking down the garage, but he barely squeezed between the massive doors as they shut.

He sped up, narrowing his eyes as he spotted spikes erupting in the road and a quinjet lowering in front of him. From the jet, a voice echoed, "Stand down, Captain Rogers. Stand down. Repeat, stand down."

"Go to hell," Steve muttered as a gun lowered. He leaned forward and began weaving, doing his best to avoid the line of fire. Once he was close enough, he removed the shield and threw it, smirking as it jammed one of the wings entirely. Hitting the brakes hard, Steve used that momentum to catapult himself up onto the quinjet and flipped up and over. Racing across the wing, he pulled his shield out. The quinjet violently twisted and Steve flipped, catching himself on the edge of the wing with his shield. Flipping himself back up onto the quinjet, Steve then glared as he threw the shield at the back of the quinjet, his heart racing as they exploded. The craft was spinning wildly out of control and Steve raced forward, leaping off of it and catching the shield in midair before he landed gracefully on the ground.

The quinjet crashed onto the walkway and Steve smirked before he ran off. He wanted to go directly toward the hospital, but he knew that was a bad move. Knew that there was definitely tracking devices in his goddamn suit. So instead he made a detour first, and he slipped into a gym. It was a random gym. Heading into the locker room, he peeled off his uniform and checked through people's things until he found someone who wore a similar size to him. Swapping their clothing for his uniform, Steve then carefully put it back into the locker room and headed out.

He stashed his shield just outside the hospital before he headed in. The sweatpants and hoodie were thankfully both comfortable and pretty generic. The hood also meant an easy way to hide his face from cameras in the hospital. No doubt SHIELD was already tracking every single one of those in the city to get a glimpse of him somewhere.

Heading to the vending machine, Steve felt the weight of everything begin to crash down on him as he looked and saw a completely empty row. As he stared at it, he frowned as he spotted Natasha's reflection. She was loudly and obnoxiously chewing gum. Turning, Steve grabbed her by the arm and then led her into an empty room, pushing her against a wall and lowering his hood before he snapped, "Where is it?"

"Safe."

"Do better."

"Where did you get it?"

"Why would I tell _ you_?"

Natasha's eyes widened, "Fury gave it to you. Why?"

"What's on it?"

"I don't know."

Steve glared and shook her, "Stop lying!"

Natasha frowned, "I only act like I know everything, Rogers."

Steve frowned, "I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?"

Natasha opened her mouth, but then didn't say anything for several moments. Finally she said, "Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you."

Steve wrenched Natasha forward slightly as he snapped, "I'm not gonna ask you again."

For a moment they just stared at each other before Natasha said, "I know who killed Fury." Steve relaxed his grip on her and then stepped back, watching her as she explained, "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last _ fifty _ years."

"So he's a ghost story."

"Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him _ straight through me_." Natasha then lifted up her shirt to reveal a jagged scar on her abdomen near her hip. "Soviet slug. No rifling. Bye-bye, bikinis."

"Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now."

Natasha smirked, "Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried." She then pulled out the USB drive. "Like you said, he's a ghost story."

Steve took the USB drive from Natasha. "Well, let's find out what the ghost wants."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close, y'all.
> 
> Fury is 'dead', Steve now knows about the existence of The Winter Soldier, and he's gonna be getting information from the flash drive with Natasha next chapter.
> 
> Once again, we'll be having a _single_ update next weekend.
> 
> Also, I no longer have any clue as to what I believe when it comes to Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp. I last said that I had a backup in mind of how I'm viewing Vivian, that being Margot Robbie, but I'm not sure she's the best fit for Vivian. I'll keep looking. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd appreciate it. Although at this point I might just not have anything for her and continue to describe her as I have. I like having a face to kind of compare it to, but I'm not sure if it's necessary.


	24. Twenty-Four: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none that I can think of

"Where did you even get that outfit, by the way?"

Glancing over at Natasha, Steve narrowed his eyes as they left the hospital. Frowning, paused before he admitted, "Gym bag. I ditched my uniform there."

"Smart. You know that thing had trackers in it, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes, "I figured. Anyway, if you have a problem with this, then you can help me get a new disguise."

Natasha grinned and held up a hand, "You go get us a ride and I'll meet you back here in five minutes"

Steve headed into a nearby parking structure and hotwired a truck before driving back to the meeting spot. They were still extremely close to the hospital, so he then ducked over and grabbed the shield, hiding it in the back of the truck before waiting for Natasha.

For a moment he worried that Natasha would run off, but then he reminded himself that _ he _ had the USB drive (he even double checked). Within a few minutes, Natasha was back out with two bags and she shoved one into his arms and nodded toward a couple of public bathrooms. Heading in, Steve got changed into the outfit. The disguise was an odd outfit, complete with fake glasses and a baseball hat. He wasn't sure how much of a disguise this was, but when he came out, she smirked.

"Not bad."

"Where are these even from?" Steve frowned.

"Barton," Natasha replied easily. "He's got drop points all over the city. He's paranoid and also he sometimes strips naked when he drinks too much. He's lost his clothes before. I figured those would at least somewhat fit you since you're a similar height and Barton's disguises tend to be on the baggier side."

"And your clothes?"

"I said he was paranoid, not that he wasn't smart."

"Any chance we can get hold of him?" Steve asked with a frown.

Natasha got into the car and Steve did as well as she said, "I can't communicate with him through official means. They'll definitely be monitoring those, but I sent him a message on a secure line. I don't know if he got it though."

"Let's hope he did," Steve muttered.

"Great. Drive to the mall."

Steve wasn't sure exactly why they were going there, but he figured there was some tactical advantage to it, so he did as he was told. After all, you could easily blend in when you were in there. Once they were in, Steve nodded as Natasha instructed, "First rule of going on the run is don't run, walk."

"If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off," Steve complained quietly.

The two headed up to a computer store, and Steve frowned at how busy the place was. The store felt claustrophobic and it was _ so loud_. They picked a random computer in the place and Natasha fiddled with the computer as she explained, "The drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are."

"How much time do we have?" Steve asked, keeping an eye on everyone around them.

"About nine minutes from...now," Natasha said as she plugged in the drive. After a couple minutes, Natasha then whispered, "Fury was right about that ship. Somebody's trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands."

Leaning slightly over Natasha's shoulder, Steve quietly asked, "Can you override it?"

"The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. _ Slightly._"

Steve felt himself getting more and more anxious as time kept going forward. They had such a short window of time to get this right. Glancing around, he frowned as Natasha said, "I'm gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can't read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from."

"Can I help you guys with anything?" an employee with long hair and a beard asked, walking over.

Steve started thinking through any number of excuses they could use to get this guy to just go away so they could finish this and leave when Natasha gently pulled him forward and grinned, "Oh no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations."

Steve smiled as she squeezed his shoulders and said, "Right. We're getting married."

"Congratulations. Where are you thinking about going?"

Steve glanced at the computer, which had just finished running the tracer and read out, "New Jersey."

"Oh." The employee then paused and stared at his face. For a moment Steve became panicked as a look of recognition came over his face. The panic faded as the employee excitedly said, "I have the _ exact same glasses_."

"Wow, you two are practically twins," Natasha drawled.

"Yeah, I wish," the employee laughed as he motioned to Steve's whole body. "_Specimen_." He then took a step back and held up his name tag, "If you guys need anything, I've been Aaron."

"Thank you," Steve said, watching the man leave. He then turned back toward Natasha and held out his watch while whispering, "You said nine minutes. Come on."

"Relax," Natasha sighed. "Got it."

The map zoomed in on a location in New Jersey before it highlighted specifically _ Wheaton_, New Jersey. Steve frowned, and then leaned close.

"You know it?" Natasha asked.

"I used to. Let's go," Steve said and removed the drive. As they left the store, Steve spotted STRIKE members and whispered, "Standard tac team. Two behind, two across, and two coming straight at us. If they make us, I'll engage, you hit the south escalator to get to the metro."

"Shut up and put your arm around me. Laugh at something I said," Natasha demanded.

"_What_?"

"Do it."

Steve did as he was told, wrapping an arm around her and laughing quietly. He was amazed when it actually worked. The tac team had barely looked at them. His relief didn't last long as they got onto an escalator only for Natasha to turn toward him and hiss, "Kiss me."

"What?" Steve asked, more than a little confused.

"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable."

"Yes, they do," Steve said, thinking about whether or not Clint was going to be extremely mad at him for this if he did it. Before he could really think about it, Natasha leaned up and pulled him down into a kiss. And for a moment he just froze. Natasha was the first woman he'd kissed since Peggy and he didn't know how to feel about it. Especially since this wasn't even a real kiss. It was just a distraction technique. He put his hands on Natasha's waist, and he kissed back. It was a nice kiss, but something about it still just felt...odd.

Finally the kiss ended and Natasha turned around before she asked, "You still uncomfortable?"

Steve frowned and thought about the conflicting emotions going through his head, finally settling on, "That's not exactly the word I would use."

Thankfully the stolen truck was still in the parking garage where they left it, and Steve headed toward their destination. Natasha snorted as he almost immediately ditched the hat and glasses upon entering the truck. For a while though, the ride was just silent. They didn't say a word to each other until after they crossed into New Jersey. Once they did, Natasha propped her feet up on the dash and asked the question he was pretty certain she'd been dying to ask him for over an hour.

"Where did Captain America learn to steal a car?"

"Nazi Germany." Natasha hummed, and Steve glanced at her feet before he said, "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

"Alright, I have a question for you, of which you do not have to answer." Steve glanced over at Natasha, but wanted to roll his eyes as Natasha continued, "I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

"_What_?"

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

"That bad, huh?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying."

"No, I didn't. I just wondered how much practice you've had."

"You don't need practice," Steve scoffed.

"_Everybody _ needs practice," Natasha retorted.

"It was not my first kiss since 1945!" Steve said. "I'm 95, not dead."

"Nobody special though?"

Steve's heart ached at that question. He didn't want to admit to Natasha that he'd been making time with Barton since he wasn't sure if Natasha viewed their relationship as special, but he knew Barton did. And besides, Steve was just friends with Clint. He wasn't _ special _ in the way that Natasha was saying. He wasn't Buck or Viv. Hell, for a moment he thought Sam could become someone _ special_, but he was pretty sure that wasn't an option either. Steve settled for chuckling and deflecting, "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."

"Well, that's all right. You just make something up."

"What, like you?"

"I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time. Neither am I," Natasha said with a smile.

Steve frowned, "That's a tough way to live."

"It's a good way not to die, though," Natasha said. And Steve realized in that moment that it was the most honest he was pretty sure she'd ever been with him. And even then, the thing she was being honest about was how dishonest she was.

"You know it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is."

"Yeah," Natasha said simply. "Who do you want me to be?"

"How about a friend?"

Natasha laughed, "Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."

Part of Steve wanted to ask if she was that way with Barton, if Barton was in love with _ a version _ of her or if he was in love with _ her _. He stopped himself, pretty certain a question like that was nothing but cruel. It also just wasn't his business. Clint and Natasha were adults. They could make their own choices. It wasn't his responsibility to protect them from each other when the danger was just a relationship potentially ending badly.

Finally they arrived at Camp Lehigh and Steve parked in front of the gates before getting out. He took the shield out of the back and announced, "This is it."

"The file came from these coordinates," Natasha confirmed, pocketing her phone.

"So did I."

Knocking the lock off the gate, they headed in and began their search. The sun was already setting, and was down completely as they walked past the first building. Glancing around, Steve mused, "This camp was where I was trained."

"Change much?" Natasha asked, holding her phone up and walking forward.

"A little," Steve said sadly.

All things considered, Steve hadn't spent a tremendous amount of time in that place, but it'd been memorable, and as he glanced at the track, he could practically hear the drill sergeant telling them to pick up the pace. He could see the soldiers marching. He could see himself, scrawny and trying, struggling to keep up with the group. He could feel how much of a struggle it was to get air into his lungs. He could feel how much his back and his joints all hurt from just the effort of moving, let alone moving while carrying that much weight.

"This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off," Natasha sighed. Steve was about to agree, but then he glanced over and spotted a building that was out of place. "What is it?"

Steve moved rapidly toward the odd building and announced, "Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building is in the wrong place."

Natasha kept pace and Steve used his shield to break off another lock before they opened the doors and headed in. The place was dark, but after they went down the stairs, they found a light switch. Natasha flicked it on and they both stared in wonder at the SHIELD insignia on the far wall.

"This is SHIELD," Natasha said, sounding surprised.

"Maybe where it started," Steve commented as he saw the dust that had gathered on everything. Opening a door, Steve headed in, able to handle everything until he saw three photos on the wall. Colonel Phillips, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. His throat burned and his heart ached. Howard was dead and Peggy was dying. It just didn't seem fair.

"And there's Stark's father," Natasha mused. "Who's the girl?"

Anger filled Steve and for a moment he wanted to turn to Natasha, demand how she didn't know who _ Margaret Carter was _. She'd been SHIELD's director. She'd been the heart, soul, and backbone of the place, he was sure of it. Hell, probably even the brains too more often than not. He couldn't bring himself to say any of that. He felt numb and he just turned and walked away.

As he moved forward, he felt a breeze and paused before narrowing in on where it came from. It was from between two bookcases and he glanced around before he asked, "If you're already working in a secret office..." Steve paused and _ yanked _ on the bookcases. They slid aside, revealing a hallway to an elevator. "Why do you need to hide the elevator?"

They headed over to the elevator doors where there was a keypad. Natasha used her phone to analyze the keys, looking for a pattern before she pressed a series of numbers, 8539, to open the doors. They both entered the elevator and Steve honestly wasn't sure what he was going to find as they went deeper into the building. All he knew was that they were _ deep _underground.

Once the doors opened, they found themselves in a near pitch black room. They walked forward and it took a few dozen feet of walking toward some lit up buttons before the lights even turned on.

"This can't be the data point. This technology is ancient," Natasha said. 

Steve glanced around at all the technology before he focused as Natasha moved closer to the desk. That was when he noticed a USB port. Natasha put the drive in and instantly more of the computers lit up, all of the technology coming on with a whirr, including the main monitors in front of them.

INITIATE SYSTEM?

The electronic voice made Steve flinch, but he walked forward, holding a little bit tighter to his shield as Natasha stared at it. A cursor flashed on screen and as soon as she saw that, she moved forward and began typing, "Y-E-S spells yes." The computer began powering up and Natasha lowered her voice and joked, "Shall we play a game?" She then turned and grinned, "It was from a movie that was really..."

"I know," Steve sighed. "I've seen _ WarGames_. Barton made sure of it."

The computer beeped and the camera attached to it focused on him as a face began to be somewhat visible in the pixels. A computerized voice announced, "Rogers, Steven Grant, born 1918." The camera then panned over to Natasha. "Romanoff, Natalia Alianova, born 1984."

"It's some kind of recording," Natasha said with a frown.

"I am _ not _ a recording, _ Fräulein_. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but _ I am_."

Steve felt like he was going to be sick as Zola's picture showed up on a smaller monitor. It couldn't be. That man was supposed to be long dead. He deserved to have died years ago. The idea of him outliving almost everyone he'd ever cared about was just...it was hell.

"You know this thing?"

Steve kept his cool as best as he could as he began to walk around the main desk and said, "Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years."

"First correction, I am Swiss," the computer announced. "Second, look around you. _ I have never been more alive _ . In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, _ that was worth saving _. On 200,000 feet of databanks. You are standing in my brain."

"How did you get here?" Steve asked.

"Invited," Zola said.

"It was Operation Paperclip after World War II," Natasha sighed. "SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value."

"They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own," Zola explained.

"Hydra died with the Red Skull," Steve said, growing tired of the conversation.

"Cut off one head, two more shall take its place," Zola said, his face morphing into Hydra's symbol. It then went back to Zola's face only the face split into two of them.

"Prove it," Steve snapped.

"Accessing archive," Zola announced. On another screen, a series of images began flashing starting with Schmidt's face as Zola explained, "Hydra was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom." The image shifted to Hydra soldiers and then to American soldiers and then a hydra banner as Zola continued, "What we did not realize was that if you try to take their freedom, they resist."

Footage of himself fighting Hydra and Nazis played followed by footage of leaders surrendering, Nazi memorabilia being burned. Then the overhead of places being bombed.

"The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly."

Steve watched himself lead surrendered Nazis to captivity and then flashes of the SSR being crossed out and replaced with SHIELD. Peggy and Howard standing proudly in an office filled with agents.

"After the war, SHIELD was founded, and I was recruited."

Zola's picture. The white house. Newspapers about scientists recruited to the US government. Images from major world events began rapidly cycling on the screen.

"The new Hydra grew. _ A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. _For 70 years, Hydra has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed."

There was a flash of a metal arm with a red star, the metal arm of the Winter Soldier. A brief picture of him on a tower with a gun pointed.

"That's impossible. SHIELD would have stopped you," Natasha insisted.

Steve thought he was going to be sick as newspapers began flashing on screen.

JAMES FALSWORTH DIES IN GAS LEAK.

TIMOTHY DUGAN DIES OF HEART ATTACK.

HOWARD AND MARIA STARK DIE IN CAR ACCIDENT.

"Accidents will happen."

A picture of Nick Fury flashed on screen before it was crossed out and Steve could feel his hand trembling as he clenched it by his side.

"Hydra created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once a purification process is complete, Hydra's new world order will arise."

Steve recognized the ships in the schematics and the guns on the screen from Project Insight and he felt sick.

"We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life."

The screen flashed images of newspapers about his disappearance. About his crash.

"A zero sum."

Enraged, Steve couldn't hold back anymore and he slammed his fist into the screen, shattering it. His heart was racing, and he glared as Zola switched to a different monitor before he continued, "As I was saying..."

Moving over, Steve demanded, "What's on this drive?"

"Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm."

"What kind of algorithm? What does it do?" Natasha asked.

"The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it."

A metal door began closing and Steve threw his shield, hoping to hold it open, but his shield just bounced off the doors after they closed. It then ricocheted back and he caught it as Natasha announced, "Steve, we've got a bogey. Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops."

"Who fired it?" Steve asked.

"SHIELD," Natasha whispered. 

"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain," Zola said, sounding almost amused. Steve glanced around as Natasha took out the drive. Steve spotted a grate as Zola gleefully said, "Admit it, it's better this way. We are both of us, out of time."

Ripping up the grate, Steve pulled Natasha close and then jumped into the ground, holding up his shield over them as the building exploded and then began collapsing on top of them. He screamed as the weight pushed down on him. He struggled to keep them both safe, but as more and more came down, he could feel Natasha slip into unconsciousness in his arms. Her body was limp and he held her tighter still. He knew it would probably bruise her, but it was better than the blunt force trauma of the building.

Finally after a while, it all stopped and Steve groaned as he carefully set Natasha aside and shoved a large slab of concrete off of them. He then cleared his way to the surface before picking her up and carrying her out. Once they were on the surface, he spotted helicopters so he _ ran_. He rested Natasha in the passenger seat of the truck and walked, hiding behind items until he could find a new vehicle.

They needed help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Steve.
> 
> Also, yes, the quote from Natasha is from WarGames, not from Saw. WarGames is a movie from the 80's and is actually a very fun movie.
> 
> Next weekend is Valentine's Day weekend, so y'all are getting two updates that weekend.


	25. Twenty-Five: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: lots of fighting and angst, but otherwise I'm not sure
> 
> If you were fine watching the bridge scene in TWS then you should be fine.

It was just before dawn when Natasha woke up again as Steve drove the newly 'borrowed' car back into town. Natasha winced and sat up, glancing around while seeming to check that she could move. Glancing over at her, Steve quietly asked, "Are you okay?"

Natasha nodded and whispered, "Yeah. You got an idea of where we're going?"

"Honestly, only person I can think of going to is Sam Wilson, but I'm not sure if heading to the VA is a good idea. One, he's probably not there yet, and two, it's a government building."

"We can just head to his house. I have his address," Natasha said, shrugging.

Steve narrowed his eyes, "Why do you have his address?"

Natasha smiled weakly, "Did a background check on him. Figured I'd give it to you to maybe get you to ask him out."

Steve rolled his eyes and then just motioned for her to sit up. Natasha did so and guided him toward Sam's house. Once they were nearby, they ditched the car and headed toward Sam's house on foot. They headed around back and knocked on a door in the back of his house, hoping beyond hope that a barely dawn visit to his house meant most neighbors wouldn't notice. Thankfully Sam _ was _ back from his run and he opened the door, looking confused, but not ready to call the cops as he said, "Hey, man."

"I'm sorry about this," Steve said. "We need a place to lay low."

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added.

Sam glanced between them for no more than a second before he said, "Not everyone." He then stepped aside to allow them to come in. Steve was more relieved than he could say, and also just all the more grateful for Sam. He'd had a good feeling about Sam, but 'good feeling' didn't mean he'd been prepared for the man to practically be a saint. Steve let Natasha go in first, smiling as Sam made sure they weren't followed as he shut the door after them.

"Spare bedroom's down the hall and on the right. Got its own bathroom. You two should probably get cleaned up. You look like hell," Sam said.

Steve nodded, "Thanks, Sam."

He then headed into the bathroom and peeled off some of the more destroyed clothing he was wearing and slowly but surely cleaned off his face, and hair. Natasha was sitting on the bed, slowly wringing out her hair after all but dunking her head under the shower to give it a quick wash.

"You okay?" he asked carefully.

Natasha nodded, but her gaze was distant. She looked lost. Sighing, Steve set the towel he was using down and sat across from her, looking her straight in the eyes before he asked, "What's going on?"

"Growing up, I had this mentor, and when I was old enough, we became partners. We got assigned to missions together. One day, she took me up to the roof of this place we were staying in and she was so just...so scared. So sad. I thought for a second she was going to kill herself. I thought she'd brought us up there for me to watch her die. She talked about how she wasn't a real person, about how our lives weren't real, and then she made me promise her that I wouldn't let myself become her. She made me promise that when I saw an opportunity to leave that life behind and to become a real person, that I'd take it with both hands and not let go. She made me promise. When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. I thought I was keeping my promise. But I guess I just traded in the KGB and the Red Room for Hydra."

Steve's heart ached at that story, and the ache only got worse as Natasha sighed, "I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but...I guess I can't tell the difference anymore."

"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business," Steve gently teased, unsure of what else to do.

Natasha looked at him in shock, laughing quietly to herself. Steve smiled back at her, but then was surprised when she whispered, "I owe you."

Steve shook his head and whispered, "It's okay."

"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?"

She looked so earnest, almost desperate, and for a moment she looked so young. Almost impossibly young and he smiled softly before he reassured her, "I would now." She looked stunned, and then he smiled, "And I'm always honest."

"Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing," Natasha teased.

Steve leaned back and grinned, "Well, guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."

"I made breakfast," Sam said, leaning into the room. "If you guys eat that sort of thing."

Steve smiled at Natasha before nodding toward Sam. They both finished getting cleaned up and got changed into clean clothing. Once they'd sat down, they ate a bit before Natasha asked, "So, the question is, who at SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?"

Steve only had to think about it for a moment before he sighed, "Pierce."

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world," Natasha said, sighing and picking at her utensils.

"But he's not working alone. Zola's algorithm was on the _ Lemurian Star _," Steve pointed out.

"So was Jasper Sitwell," Natasha said.

Steve paused, adding Sitwell to the column of 'Hydra' in his mind before he said, "So, the real question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?"

"The answer is, you don't," Sam said, placing a folder on the table in front of him.

"What's this?" Steve asked, sitting up straighter.

"Call it a résumé," Sam said with a smile.

Natasha grabbed a photo from on top of the file before Steve got a good look at it, staring incredulously as she asked, "Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?" Sam didn't react one way or the other and Natasha grinned, "You didn't say he was a Pararescue."

Steve glanced at the photo and saw Sam was standing next to a man. Nodding to the picture, he asked, "Is this Riley?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly.

"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGS," Natasha mused. "What did you use? A stealth chute?"

"No," Sam said, handing over the file.

Steve opened it and saw the specs within before he said, "I thought you said you were a pilot."

Sam chuckled and shook his head, "I never said pilot."

Steve shook his head, "I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason."

"Dude, _ Captain America _needs my help," Sam scoffed. "There's no better reason to get back in."

Smiling, Steve held up the folder and asked, "Where can we get our hands on one of these things?"

"The last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall."

Steve shared a glance with Natasha. She shrugged and shook her head and he nodded before he said, "Shouldn't be a problem."

Setting the file down, Steve smiled as Sam then cleared his throat and asked, "Listen, now, I'm grateful I'm officially on Team Cap and all, but are we going to be calling in the rest of the Avengers for this?"

Steve shook his head, "Banner's off the grid, probably not even in this hemisphere right now. Thor's probably not even on this planet."

"I called in Barton, but we can't wait around for him to make his way here. I don't know how far away his assignment was when I called him in," Natasha added.

"What about Iron Man?" Sam asked.

Steve shook his head, "Stark helped make part of Project Insight, and I'm not saying he's Hydra, but even if he isn't, there's no way Hydra hasn't thought to keep an eye on him. Beyond that, the man isn't exactly stealthy. Right now we're trying to lay low."

Natasha nodded, "As far as my intel says, he's only managed to do stealth once and he didn't even manage it that time for more than about five minutes."

Sam gave a low whistle, "All right, it's just us then. How are we going to break into _ Fort Meade _then?"

Natasha frowned and then turned to Sam, "I'm going to need you to buy a prepaid cell phone for me. With my cash, of course. I have some contacts at Fort Meade that owe me some huge favors. They'll be able to get me in and out without before anyone even knows what's happening."

Steve sighed, "Will they need a lot of time once you give them the call?"

Natasha shook her head, "We can call them on the way there."

Grabbing a jacket, Steve then announced, "All right, then let's go."

They all piled into Sam's car, making a stop by the store so Sam could run in and buy a prepaid cell phone. Once he got back into the car, Steve smiled as he handed the phone to Natasha as he sighed, "Shit, that was awkward. Next time we go on a clandestine shopping trip, one of you is buying the prepaid cell phone. Maybe you won't get looked at like they need to call the cops on your ass."

"Sorry, Sam," Steve said with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said and flipped on the radio.

Natasha smirked at him from the backseat and Steve shook his head, sending her a pointed look through the rearview mirror as he sat in the passenger seat. Thankfully she didn't say anything about whatever it was that she was thinking. Unfortunately, Sam then glanced between them and asked, "How'd you know where I lived anyway? Not that I mind, I'm just curious."

"Preliminary background check. Don't worry, I did them through a secure line and along with a dozen or so other background checks," Natasha said. She then motioned for the radio to be turned down before she dialed a number and began speaking in rapid Russian.

Sam arched an eyebrow at Steve and he held up his hands, shrugging. Sam snorted, but otherwise focused on the road. Natasha's phone call only took a few minutes before she hung up and announced, "They'll be waiting for me when we get there."

Steve nodded and Sam turned the music back up for the rest of the ride. Once they were there, they dropped off Natasha. As soon as she was out of the car, Sam asked, "So, is there a reason she looked me up or what?"

Steve smiled and told a half-truth, "Honestly, I'm not quite sure. I think it's just because we were hanging out. Natasha's got her own way of looking out for the people she cares about."

"She single or does she got a thing with Hawkeye?" Steve arched an eyebrow and Sam grinned, "What? I'm just asking. I saw that arrow necklace she's wearin', man."

"You'd have to ask Natasha about that," Steve pointed out. "That's her business, not mine."

Sam sighed, "You're right. Maybe I'll ask once we're done saving the world from Hydra."

Steve smiled faintly, glad to have Sam along. It was a burst of optimism, of camaraderie that he hadn't experienced since the Howling Commandos. Barton and Natasha were great, but there was something about Sam that reminded him of those guys.

Thirty minutes passed before Natasha was back, a bag slung over her shoulder. She slipped into the backseat and Sam gave a low whistle, "Damn, you're good."

"I know," Natasha said with a grin. "Now let's get going. I also found out where Sitwell is going to be."

Sam scoffed, "You sure you need us here at all?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and leaned back. They drove back into town and once they were there, Natasha nodded to the roof of a building and said, "I'm gonna head up there. I have a sight from a rifle that I can point at him. You make sure he gets into the car with you and Steve. Bring him this way and then I'll kick him off the building. You'll catch him." She then took his phone and fiddled with it before she handed it back and announced, "I put his number into your phone. He'll answer when you call. Just play it cool."

"Got it," Sam nodded.

Natasha headed up into the building and Sam headed to a cafe near where Sitwell was going to be. Steve sank lower into the car and waited while Sam did his part in the cafe. He wanted to do something, to be out in the open, but he knew that wasn't an option. Being alone with his thoughts wasn't great either though. He could feel the anxiety creeping in, and could feel it wrapping itself around his mind. In the silence of the car, all he could think about was how he'd failed both Buck and Viv. Hydra was back and possibly bigger than it had ever been. It sure as hell had access to weapons that they hadn't even had back during the war. And back during the war they'd been devastating.

Steve was snapped out of it as Sitwell got into the backseat and stared at him in horror. Sam then got into the front seat and drove. Sitwell was trembling in the backseat and Steve smiled as Sam parked in front of the correct building and announced, "Have fun, Cap."

Steve nodded and dragged Sitwell out of the car, leading him up to the roof with his arm pinned behind his back. Sitwell whimpered and whispered desperate pleas to be let go as he was led up, but once they were out there, Steve shoved him forward and demanded, "Tell me about Zola's algorithm."

Natasha stepped out from the side, a smirk on her face as Sitwell almost dropped his glasses before he carefully put them back on and stammered, "Never heard of it."

"What were you doing on the _ Lemurian Star_?"

"I was throwing up. I get seasick," Sitwell said, still stumbling backward.

Steve moved forward faster, backing him up until he hit the edge of the roof. He flailed backward, almost falling, but Steve grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him upright. He stared deep into Sitwell's eyes, wondering how the man could betray so many people by turning to _ Hydra _ when Sitwell scoffed, "Is this little display meant to insinuate you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers."

Steve's jaw clenched, but then he said, "You're right. It's not." Steve smoothed Sitwell's jacket and then he smiled, "It's hers."

He quickly got out of the way, watching as horror spread throughout Sitwell's expression as Natasha stepped forward and forcefully kicked him off the roof. He screamed, and Natasha frowned, "Oh, wait. What about that girl from Accounting, Laura..."

"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she's cute," Natasha said with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that," Steve said, shaking his head.

The screaming got louder again as Sam flew up, carrying Sitwell by the back of his shirt and jacket. He got dropped onto the roof before Sam landed near the door, the wings folding back into the pack on the back. Steve walked in step with Natasha as they headed up to Sitwell, who was pushing himself up to his knees. He held up a hand and shouted, "Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing Insight's targets."

"What targets?" Steve asked.

"You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to Hydra. Now, or in the future."

"In the future? How could it know?"

Sitwell laughed, almost deliriously, causing Sam to take a step forward until Sitwell snapped, "_How could it not_?" Sitwell then stood up, still trembling, but getting his composure back, "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it." When he just got stares in response, Sitwell became even more agitated as he said, "Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores! Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?"

Realization seemed to settle into Sitwell as he looked horrified before he whispered, "Oh my God. Pierce is gonna kill me."

"What then?" Steve demanded, stepping forward. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to this question, but he wanted this lackey to say it out loud. He wanted Sitwell to say out loud what he'd helped to make.

Sam grabbed Sitwell by the jacket and forced him to look forward. Only then did Sitwell explain, "Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."

They headed back down into the car, Sitwell in the backseat with Natasha. They were heading toward the helicarriers. Sitwell looked nervous, and Steve frowned as the man nervously said, "Hydra doesn't like leaks."

"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam snapped, glancing at their passenger via the rearview mirror.

Natasha leaned over between the front seats, her brows furrowed as she reminded everyone, "Insight's launching in sixteen hours. We're cutting it a little bit close here."

"I know," Steve sighed. "We use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly."

"_What_? Are you _ crazy_?" Sitwell shouted. "That is a terrible, _ terrible _idea!"

There was a thud on the roof and Steve glanced up at it only to then realized the danger had never been to him as the window next to Sitwell shattered. A metal arm had crashed through it and grabbed the man by the shoulder before pulling him out of the car. Steve could only watch in horror as Sitwell slammed into the front of a truck, the sounds of his screaming cutting off abruptly.

The Winter Soldier then climbed on top of the roof and as he began shooting through it, Natasha dove into the front seat. She came crashing into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him forward. His ears were ringing and his mind going what felt like a million miles a second as the bullets entered the seat behind him. Reaching over, Steve shifted the gears, causing the car to stop, the brakes screeching as the soldier was thrown off their car.

Glancing through the windshield, Steve watched, part of him a little impressed as the man bounced off his back as he hit the ground, twisting in midair before landing on one knee, his other leg stuck out behind him. His metal hand scraped against the asphalt as he slowed himself down, sparks flying into the air from the friction. Once he came to a stop, he slowly and casually just stood up, his normal hand clenched tightly into a fist. All Steve could focus on was _ this man_.

Unfortunately, their distraction came at a price as they were all snapped forward. A car slammed into the back of theirs and the gun fell into the floor. The soldier ran up at them as they were pushed forward, flipping himself over and onto the roof again. As he crashed back down, his body slammed into the rear window, shattering the glass.

Steve could hear the brakes screeching, and could feel the car being forced forward. Steve kept a firm grasp on Natasha as she tried to reach for the gun that had fallen to the floor. They both glanced up in horror though as that metal arm reached through the windshield and _ ripped out the steering wheel_.

"Shit!" Sam screamed.

Natasha got a hold of the gun and shot through the roof. As Steve glanced back, he could see that the Winter Soldier had leaped from their roof to the hood of the car ramming theirs. Their car accelerated, but Sam had no control over the direction they drove. Luckily the car had last been going straight, so that helped, but it meant that when they were rammed, there was no way to right their course and they bounced off the guardrail.

"Hang on!" Steve shouted as he saw they were about to crash. He put his shield on his arm and put it up against the door. With his shield arm, he gripped onto Natasha's shoulders and with his free arm he reached over to Sam, pulling him close. A forceful shove to the car door sent the car door completely off the car as it flipped in the air.

The car door helped with some of the impact, but bracing himself on the door as well as taking part of the impact of two fully grown adults meant that he felt like his bones were rattling within him. Pain was just throughout his body and he cursed as Sam fell off and rolled down the road. Thankfully, the door finally slid to a stop and Steve glanced back to see that Sam was already getting to his feet. Getting shakily to his feet as well, Steve pulled Natasha up with him only for dread to fill him as he saw that the attacking vehicle had stopped. The soldier got off the hood and the vehicle emptied out. A masked woman stood near the soldier, her golden blonde hair pulled high into a ponytail. Large weapons were handed to both of them.

The woman just watched, her entire stance tense as the Winter Soldier aimed the launcher at them. Steve shoved Natasha, sending her running away. Putting up his shield to brace himself, he watched in horror as the woman pursued Natasha. Before he could think about it too much, a projectile hit his shield with a _ bang_, sending him into the windshield of a car. He skid off the now broken glass and soared off the overpass, his shield flying off his arm. He crashed through the window of a bus, his head slamming into a pole as he hit the floor.

He started to push himself up, to force himself to just _ keep going_, but then the bus tipped sideways. The passengers on the bus screamed and as they landed and skid, Steve felt everything go dark. He knew from experience that he'd only been out for a few minutes. People were carefully leaving the bus and Steve pushed himself up, his entire body shaking as he did so. A quick check of his body showed that he was going to have some _ insane _ bruising, but luckily nothing had actually broken. How he'd managed that, he wasn't quite sure.

Before he could fully get his bearings and start piecing together what to do next, the Hydra agents began firing at the bus. Leaping up, Steve raced toward his shield, avoiding getting shot before he threw himself out the back door of the bus. As he hit the ground, he rolled and grabbed his shield, picking it up just in time to block bullets from hitting his face. Getting an idea, Steve carefully tilted the shield, ricocheting the bullets off of it and admittedly getting a small sense of satisfaction as he heard cries of pain come from the Hydra agents. He could hear bodies crumpling to the ground and he moved forward, diverting bullets when he could.

Once there was only one shooter left, Steve charged forward and up onto the roof he was on, flipping up and grabbing the man by his shoulder, slamming him down onto the car as he went. He then immediately took cover behind the car, catching his breath and glancing up at the overpass where Sam was taking out a few new agents.

"Go, I got this!" Sam shouted.

Steve nodded and raced forward. He needed to find Natasha. That other agent had been pursuing her, and since he didn't see the Winter Soldier anywhere, he figured he was too. Natasha was good, extremely good, but that man was practically a machine. Steve had no idea what the woman had going for her. Regardless, he wasn't going to let Nat face those two alone. No, even a world class assassin like Natasha was going to need backup.

That was the only thought that was going through his mind as he raced forward. It got replaced with just _ rage and fear _ as he saw the soldier standing atop a vehicle, aiming toward a car. Steve ran up onto the car and held his shield up just in time to block a punch from that metal arm. It was enough to make him cringe and worry about breaking bones. The soldier unfortunately adapted and kicked him square in the chest, sending him off the car. Steve hit the ground hard, his breath knocked out of him.

Steve still managed to hold up his shield to block the bullets that came for him, rolling forward as his opponent leapt off the car. He raced behind a different car, hiding from the bullets before throwing himself over it, slamming his foot against the gun hand of the soldier to disarm him.

Or at least that was the goal. The soldier kept his grip firm and as Steve went for a punch, the soldier dodged and then hit him. Steve had never fought someone like this soldier before. They were matched. They were just _ absolute equals _ . Hell, half the time it felt like the soldier could read his mind, especially as he grabbed the shield and used it to flip him. And then the soldier _ had the shield. _ Steve got to feel what it was like to have that piece of vibranium slammed into him. He slid backward, barely catching himself before he looked up and glared. That shield was _ his _ and he would be damned if he was going to let a fucking agent of Hydra keep it.

Racing forward, Steve barely dodged the shield as it was thrown at him, a feeling of horror filling him as he saw the shield embed itself several inches into the back of a van. The soldier pulled a knife and then came the desperate struggle to not get stabbed. Steve dodged and blocked. It took every ounce of his concentration and effort to just not get cut. It took minutes to even just land a punch on the guy and then finally he managed to turn and kick him into a car behind them.

Steve slammed the soldier into the vehicle harder, shattering glasses. Any other opponent would have been unconscious or at least slowed down from that effort, but this soldier wasn't showing sign of anything. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd have thought he hadn't landed a single attack on him.

The soldier pushed forward and Steve started being able to predict the moves. They'd been fighting long enough where he was starting to figure out this man's style, starting to see a pattern, and he grabbed the soldier mid-punch, flipping him onto his back. Unfortunately then his metal arm shot out and gripped his throat. The grip was unlike anything Steve had ever experienced before and he found that he couldn't breathe at all. He tried to grip the wrist and the arm, tried to pry it off of himself as spots formed in his vision. Fortunately, and unfortunately, the soldier then lifted him and threw him over the car.

Steve hit the ground hard, barely able to get out of the way in time to avoid a punch from that metal arm. The punch landed where his head had been and the road just _ crumbled _ beneath the force of the impact. Steve got up and began attacking, his punches mostly blocked before he was shoved against a van. He moved forward only to be kicked back and then the knife started coming toward his face. He blocked the soldier's arm as best as he could, but then it slammed forward and he tilted his head so that it slammed into the car instead. He was _ hoping _ it would slow down the soldier, but the man just pressed him against the car and moved, slicing through metal like it was butter.

As they reached the end of the car, the sudden stop was jarring enough to give Steve a chance and he used the momentum to flip off the car, pushing the soldier to the ground before he twisted and _ yanked _ the shield out of the back of the van. Steve blocked attacks from the knife only to get frustrated when the soldier would just drop the knife down to his other hand. He managed to grab the metal hand once, prying the arm back and then thrusting the shield up, hitting the soldier in the face. The shield cracked against the mask and caused the soldier to stumble just for a moment.

Steve took that moment, reaching behind him to grab the soldier by the face, by the _ mask_, and then flip him over, tossing him down the road. The soldier rolled and Steve panted for breath as the mask stopped several feet in front of him. The soldier rolled and then got up though, his back to him and Steve waited with his shield raised. There was no way this soldier was done. This fight was still going and he needed to be prepared for whatever happened next.

And then the soldier turned and Steve realized he'd never been prepared.

The soldier's long hair wasn't recognizable, and neither was the stubble really, but it took less than a second for Steve to stare into those cold and vacant eyes to realize that even his worst nightmares hadn't predicted this. James Buchanan Barnes was alive. He was alive and he was staring at him like he was _ nothing_. That warmth that had _ always _ been there before was just _ gone_, replaced by an arctic chill that reminded him of being frozen alive.

"_Bucky_?"

The word had come out gasping, and Steve thought that this pain, this absolute agony, couldn't get any worse. And then Bucky opened his mouth and asked, "Who the hell is Bucky?"

Bucky then raised his gun into the air and Steve just stood frozen, watching the man he'd loved with every single cell in his body just be prepared to kill him. He could only watch and then it hurt so much worse when Sam flew in and kicked Bucky, sending him hard into the pavement.

Steve's heart lurched and it was like he could _ feel _ that kick. A hand went to his own shirt and twisted in the fabric. His throat tightened. This was wrong. This was so wrong. What had Hydra _ done to him_? What had _ Zola _ done to him? Bucky rolled back and got to his feet, looking back and forth, almost in confusion, but he raised the gun again, still prepared to kill him.

A whistling sound had Steve ducking, and then he glanced up in horror as a car exploded. Glancing back at Natasha, he could see that she was barely on her feet, barely standing. There was a hole in her jacket and it was soaked with blood, but he could also see a thick bandage under the fabric as well. When he glanced back, Bucky was nowhere to be seen and sirens blared as more vehicles approached.

Steve knew he couldn't run. There were just too many of them, and even if he ran, the chances of Sam running away weren't great. Natasha's chances were just nonexistent from the way she was struggling to stand upright. The agents swarmed them, pointing guns and yelling commands.

"Drop the shield, Cap! Get on your knees!" Rumlow screamed. Steve dropped the shield and held up his hands, glancing around him as Rumlow continued to scream, "Get on your knees!"

"Get down, get down! Get on your knees!"

Steve kept standing, his hands raised as Rumlow came behind him. Rollins had his weapon trained on him at all times and Steve did as he was told as Rumlow kicked at the back of his knee while shouting, "Get down on your knees! Down!"

Steve lowered to his knees, his hands raised as over a dozen men kept their guns trained on him. And as he knelt there, he frantically looked for Bucky. Was Bucky safe? He hadn't been in the explosion, but was he badly hurt?

"Hold still," Rumlow sneered, pulling his wrists together and cuffing him.

Steve could feel a rifle press against the back of his head and he knew it was Rollins. He wondered if Rumlow and Rollins had known about Bucky. He wondered if they cared. Steve could hear helicopters and realized in a flash that fucking _ reporters _ were the only reason he wasn't going to be shot dead in the street like some rabid animal.

"Put the gun down," Rumlow hissed. "Not here. _ Not here_!"

The gun moved and Steve kept remembering Bucky's words as he was dragged to his feet. _ Who the hell is Bucky? _Bucky hadn't even known who he was, but his voice was still the same. It was him. Steve let himself get led to a van and his arms were pulled in front of him. A massive, metal set of cuffs were put on him. They'd come prepared. The metal was thick enough and strong enough that he couldn't break out of them, and with his arms crossed, he couldn't pick them. They were also snug enough so that breaking his thumb wouldn't matter. His hands just weren't going to fit through the cuffs. Hell, there just were locks across his abdomen as well as both of his ankles.

Two agents sat with their backs to the driver's seat. Across from him were Sam and Natasha. Steve had been put on his own side of the car, an agent on each side of him. He wasn't sure where exactly they were being taken to be killed, but he did know it was a one way trip. Staring at the floor, he swallowed hard before he whispered, "The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes." A silence fell over them and Steve frowned, "It was him. He looked right at me like he didn't even know me."

"How's that even possible? It was, like, seventy years ago," Sam griped.

"Zola," Steve whispered. "Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall." Steve looked up, nausea filling him as he whispered, "They must have found him and..."

"None of that's your fault, Steve," Natasha interrupted, still looking a little listless.

Steve shook his head, glancing at his feet, "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

Natasha groaned in pain, and Steve looked up as blood started appearing again on her jacket. She'd bled through her bandages.

"We need to get a doctor here," Sam snapped. "We don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck."

The agent closest to Sam pulled out an electrified baton, flashing it menacingly. The person to Steve's left pulled out theirs too. Before any of them could move though, the agent next to Steve reached over him and slammed the baton under the helmet of the other agent, turning it all the way up. The agent next to Sam turned theirs on the final one before kicking him in the face. Steve couldn't move at all as the two agents slid to the ground. One seemed unconscious, although it was hard to tell, while the other one seemed more obviously dead.

The first agent pulled off her helmet and Steve almost sighed with relief when he saw that it was _ Maria Hill_. Her hair was all over the place as she gasped, "Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain." She then glanced over at Sam and griped, "Who's this guy?"

"Sam Wilson," Natasha sighed. "We kind of recruited him. He's good."

A helmet hit the ground next to him and he glanced over, becoming even more relieved as Clint Barton snapped, "Shit, Hill, why'd you knock him out?"

Maria rolled her eyes, "I didn't. He's dead. Calm down."

Clint rolled his eyes and moved to Natasha's side, pressing his hand against her shoulder while frowning, "Fuck, Tasha, you've lost a lot of blood. You bled through your bandages." He started to fumble for some keys when Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a series of keys.

Everyone went quiet and Steve frowned as Maria asked, "Natasha, where'd you get those?"

Natasha handed them over to Maria and Steve felt his throat tighten again as Natasha stared into his eyes as she said, "Barnes isn't the only one who survived."

"What are you talking about?" Steve whispered.

"Do you know the name _ Hecate_?"

Barton froze as he kept pressure on her shoulder and Maria looked confused as she began undoing everyone's cuffs. Steve was still getting released from his as he admitted, "Yeah. She was an experiment that Hydra had back in the 1940s. They brutalized her. Did all sorts of experiments on her."

"She's a mutant," Natasha sighed, wincing as Barton began changing her bandages carefully. "She has regenerative capabilities. She's also telekinetic. She was my trainer in the Red Room. She's the one who told me to get out and to leave this world behind. She came to me on the bridge, patched me up as best as she could, gave me the keys, and made me promise not to hurt Barnes. She then told me that her real name is Vivian Peshkova."

All Steve could hear was static after she said that name. Every inch of him hurt and he felt like he was going to be sick. Vivian. Hydra had Vivian too. Sam had to grab him and make him leave the vehicle after a hole got cut into the floor. Steve barely caught himself as they hit the ground. What was the point of trying to protect himself anyway? After all, he'd failed the loves of his life. He'd failed them both. Because of him, they were prisoners, puppets of Hydra.

He then got pulled up by his armpits and led away. His shield was put onto his arm and he was put into the back of a car. Steve couldn't focus on the drive, couldn't focus on the soft words Barton was whispering to Natasha as he just couldn't stop picturing the last time he'd been with both Viv and Bucky. It'd been before Vivian had shipped out. They'd gone to dinner with the Barnes family before sneaking up to Viv's room. Boys weren't allowed past the first floor, but they hadn't been able to fathom not spending Vivian's last night stateside somewhere without her.

For years, that was the last time he'd seen her, last time he'd been able to touch her or kiss her and now he'd gotten his wish to be reunited with her in the most horrific way possible.

The car stopped and Steve got out. He almost helped Natasha out, but she was leaning against Barton. His arm was wrapped securely around her and he stared at her like she was the only thing in the universe. They headed into the base and a man came running toward him. It was one of the doctors that tried to save Fury.

"GSW. She's lost at least a pint," Maria shouted.

"Maybe two," Sam added.

"Let me take her," the doctor insisted.

"She'll want to see him first," Maria argued.

Steve shared a confused look with Natasha, but then Steve sighed when he saw the way Clint's jaw clenched. They were brought to a plastic curtain. It got pulled aside, and Steve stared in shock as he saw Fury laying in bed _ alive _.

"About damn time," Fury drawled.

"You died," Natasha whispered.

Steve moved forward to Nick Fury's bed, staring down at him as Nick announced, "Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, fractured arm, and one hell of a headache."

"Don't forget your collapsed lung," the doctor insisted as he worked on patching up Natasha's shoulder.

"Let's not forget that," Nick said jokingly. "Otherwise, I'm good."

"They cut you open. Your heart stopped," Natasha insisted.

"Tetrodotoxin B," Nick explained. "Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it."

"Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?" Steve demanded.

"Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful," Maria admitted.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead," Nick said. "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day weekend, y'all. You get another update tomorrow.
> 
> Also, happy birthday weekend to Ashley_Bolton! Hopefully everyone likes the chapters I post this weekend, but it'd be a real bummer if I disappointed someone on their birthday weekend.
> 
> I keep saying birthday weekend 'cause I never did actually ask which of the days this weekend was your birthday.
> 
> Oh and if anyone's not remembering how Steve knows who 'Hecate' is, back in 'You Bury Me', when Steve was temporarily (very temporarily) held in a Hydra facility, he did come across a blood soaked torture room with documents about someone named 'Hecate' being the person they'd been cutting on and experimenting on. He assumed the woman was dead and of course didn't know the person was Vivian.


	26. Twenty-six: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: threats of torture, minor assault (slap), torture (the chair)
> 
> Yeah. Sorry guys. It's the chair scene. We all knew this was coming.

_ "Who the hell is Bucky_?"

Bucky had whispered that to himself on the car ride back to the secret base and Vivian had hated herself every second that she couldn't just _ help him_. She couldn't say anything to Bucky, not without giving away her plan, and as much as it killed her to see him in this much pain, to see him this _ lost_, she knew it had to stay that way for a bit. She sure as hell couldn't involve him in her plan to help the others.

Rumlow and Rollins had been sent to kill Steve and Natasha, and Vivian desperately hoped giving Natasha the keys to the restraints had been the right move. She hadn't seen them get searched thoroughly, but she also wasn't sure if Natasha would find an opening to use those keys without getting hurt by the agents keeping watch over them. Giving them to Natasha had seemed like the only option since she doubted Rumlow would have allowed anyone other than himself to carry the keys. And he sure as hell wasn't riding in the back with the prisoners. He never did.

She wondered what it would have been like if she'd gone to Steve, if she'd gone out into the open and gone with him instead of sitting in the back of the vehicle with Bucky. Would they have let Bucky live? Would they have let her live? She doubted it. She still had that bomb in her wrist, and they'd have detonated that the second she'd gone near Steve. Serum wouldn't have been able to fix that and then she would have lost him all over again.

All things considered, no one outside of the prisoners even knew that Vivian was making a move against Hydra. They knew she wanted to, but not that she already had. She needed to keep it that way until it was too late for them to retaliate. It helped that Hydra agents, for the most part, were too busy obsessing over what they were going to do to really analyze what she was doing.

There was a back entrance to the bank, a way to keep people from noticing the soldier get brought in and out of that chamber. They'd relocated the chair a few months before, liking the security of the bank as well as its central location. As soon as they got in, they were led down the stairs to the vaults, down to the one that held that fucking chair. Bucky kept stopping and starting, gritting his teeth in frustration and looking around wildly for answers that weren't coming. He'd stopped whispering those words, but he was still agitated. As a group of agents surrounded Bucky to keep him in check, Vivian pulled a blade from Young's side and then pressed it against the base of his spine. He froze and in the commotion, she leaned close and whispered into his ear, "We need to talk."

Young nodded, keeping his gaze forward as he whispered, "Where?"

"Central access. I need you to do something for me," Vivian said with a smile.

Young grit his teeth and the two moved carefully away from the group as Bucky lashed out, screaming in pain and frustration. The sound broke Vivian's heart, but once they were in the server room, she shoved him forward and then locked the door behind them. Pointing to the computers, Vivian made him sit down in front of one before she said, "You have access to Barnes' file, correct?"

Young nodded, "Yeah, but if you're wanting to make changes, I'm going to need Davis here too. It's got--"

"A fucking redundancy. Of course," Vivian sneered. Unlocking and opening the door, Vivian slipped out and grabbed Davis, dragging him back into the room before pressing him against the door. For a moment he almost looked excited and she groaned, "God, you guys are pathetic."

Shoving him toward the other monitor, she stood between them, clapping hands onto each of their shoulders and announcing, "Now, here we go. Redundancy in its most literal form. I need you guys to access Barnes' file."

"Why would we help you?" Davis snapped.

"Because if you don't, I am going to torture you until you do. And if that doesn't work, I'll take your wallets from you and spend whatever is left of my life tracking down your families and slaughtering the people you love the most, because that's what you decided to help do to me," Vivian mused.

Both men froze and started to get up, but she forced them down with her powers. Reaching into Davis' pocket, she pulled out a wallet and then held up a photo of him with his wife, "She's pretty. Do you think she'll scream when I eviscerate her? Sometimes people scream when I do that. Others just go utterly silent. Like they can't believe what they're seeing."

"You're a _ monster_," Young snarled, trying and failing to reach for his weapon.

Vivian raised a leg up and stepped on Young's hand, pinning it to the arm of the chair. She gave a bitter laugh, "Of course I am. It's what Hydra _ wanted _ me to be, isn't it? Now do as you're told."

She took her foot off and nodded to the computer. Both men nodded shakily and went to work bringing up Barnes' file. It was hidden behind multiple firewalls. Once they pulled it up, Davis snapped, "Most of the shit on this guy purely exists offline, so what exactly do you want?"

"It's true that mission reports, medical records, psych evaluations, etc. only exist as physical files now. However, Barnes' metal arm has a lot of fun stuff inside of it, but most notably it has a tracker and an explosive. It's too much of a pain to keep that information offline, so it's accessible through here. Removing the information entirely will, I'm sure, send out some sort of notification to Pierce and they'll put the information back in. If you also pull up my file, you'll also see that I have the same setup in my arm. It won't kill me, but it will be a pain in the ass to regrow that much of my body."

The two men looked confused, but Davis pulled up her information as well. Pointing to the screen with her tracking information, Vivian said, "I want Bucky's tracking information in the system to track me instead. I want any remote detonation of a bomb to go after _ me _ instead. Can you do it?"

The two men exchanged glances and then nodded. Davis sighed and pulled up information on both trackers as well as both bombs, "Yeah, it'll take a few minutes and there's no guarantee they won't figure it out. If he's in custody, they can just check the raw data on his arm and fix it. This isn't going to work."

"Except this shows the history of when they check the tracking data," Vivian said with a smirk.

"So what?" Young interrupted.

"_So_, I happen to know for a fact that those dates and times only correspond with Bucky being out on mission. And even then, it's not every single mission that they're doing that on. The missions where they checked it, he was a solo operative. Tomorrow, every single able-bodied agent within Hydra will be swarming SHIELD. Tomorrow is opening day, and there isn't enough time or resources to devote a person or more than one person to just monitoring Barnes' tracking info. Even if they did waste that time, the GPS would put him in the same location that I'll be in. They won't notice that his tracking is wrong until he's so far away from them that fixing it won't be an option."

The two men sighed and went to work, changing over the information as Vivian kept an eye out the door. It did take them a few minutes, but once it was done, Young sighed, "All right. Now what are you going to do? Are you going to kill us?"

"Maybe later. No point in doing it now. That would just draw too much attention to you two and this room. They'd follow that trail easily enough," Vivian said dismissively.

"Aren't you worried we'll tell on you?" Davis asked with a frown.

Vivian laughed and then moved back between the men. Squeezing their shoulders, she whispered mockingly, "Who would you tell? _ Pierce_? If Pierce finds out that all it took was a knife to your back, a little bit of telekinesis, and some genuinely empty threats from me in order to get you to absolutely turn on this organization and fuck up their most valuable data, _ he will rip you apart with his own bare hands_. And then he _ will _ follow through with those empty threats I made. And that's if he doesn't lock you up, kill your family in front of you and _ then _ rip you apart with his bare hands."

The two men stared at the screen, horrified, and she closed out of that information for them before turning them around and grinning, "You better hope Hydra loses! Also, if I catch you changing this back, I will pretend you did all of this on your own and I will turn you into Pierce and he will catch you for tampering with his most precious files. I'll tell him you tried to use me as a weapon against him. People have used me for coups before, so he'd believe it. So, now that we're clear on what the stakes are here, what are you two going to do?"

"Keep our mouths shut," they both whispered.

"Great!" Vivian grinned. "Now come on. Time to get back into positions. If anyone asks, you two did your due diligence to interrogate me into telling you what _ really _ happened on that bridge. I didn't crack. It was a waste of your time. Just a boring day in the office."

"You don't have a mark on you though," Young said.

Vivian rolled her eyes, "Then say you injured parts that aren't visible or that I healed already. Also, I'll limp or something."

Opening the door, she motioned for one to go forward and he did. She followed quickly behind, holding one arm close to her and twisting her hand in a way that made it seem like it was still healing from a break. She limped and stumbled as she walked while keeping her head down. She even gave a few raspy coughs. She could hear snickering from the agents, but no one seemed the wiser as she leaned by the wall and watched an agent working on Bucky's arm. He sat perfectly still, but he was looking around the room frantically, almost like he could see or hear something that wasn't there.

And this gaze went forward, seemingly at absolutely nothing, and his left arm slammed to the side, knocking the technician off the chair and across the room. The other technician ran away, and Rollins pulled a gun, pointing it at Bucky as he heaved in deep breaths.

"Fucking calm him down," Rollins snarled back at her.

Vivian arched an eyebrow at Rollins, but went forward into the room. Other agents had their guns raised. Bucky glanced up at her, his hands still clenched into fists. An IV was connected to his hand. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and she started to move toward him only for the door to open and Pierce stormed in while announcing, "Get back, Hecate."

Rumlow grabbed her by her arm, pulling her back as Pierce raised his hands and got everyone to lower their weapons. They were all locked back in and Vivian glared as Rumlow hissed into her ear, "You've got to be out of your mind if you think he'll let you near him."

"I'm not the one who set him off," Vivian hissed under her breath. She then sent a glare over at the technicians who stared at Bucky as if he was some kind of animal. Leaning close, she whispered to one, "He should have ripped your throat out."

He looked horrified, his hands trembling by his sides, and she grinned wickedly as Rumlow pulled her close and snarled, "What are you doing?"

"What do you care, lap dog? As long as Pierce tells you that you're a good boy, you're happy."

"Mission report," Pierce demanded, pocketing his glasses and moving closer to Bucky. He still kept his distance, and Bucky stared vacantly in front of him. It wasn't even clear that Bucky could hear anyone in the room at all as Pierce insisted, "Mission report now."

Pierce moved forward, leaning over, his hands on his knees to look Bucky directly in the eye, but Bucky still didn't look at him. Trying to pull out of Rumlow's grasp, Vivian said, "Give him a second. He'll answer. I--"

Vivian was cut off, the word _ swear _ stuck in her throat as Pierce slapped Bucky hard across the face. The sound damn near echoed in the room and Vivian hoped that hand would rot off. She hoped it'd get cut off his corpse and put through a meat grinder. She hoped his entire body was just chopped up into pieces and left wherever. She hoped anyone who'd ever cared for him would have just nothing and nowhere to go to mourn the loss of this catastrophic waste of space.

Bucky had tears in his eyes as he finally glanced back at Pierce, his voice so small, so unsure of himself as he said, "The man on the bridge. Who was he?"

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment," Pierce said. Vivian hated to admit it, but the answer was smart. It wasn't a _ lie_, per say, but it sure as hell wasn't the truth.

"I knew him," Bucky said, his gaze flicking over toward her. Her chest tightened, and she blinked back tears. He looked lost, _ vulnerable_, and it took every ounce of her restraint to not just rip the place apart and lead him out. There were too many agents for her to get him out safely, and even then, the rest of Hydra would track them down. Bucky would be dead before she got him to Steve, and it would be her fault for not being patient enough when it mattered.

Pierce loudly grabbed one of the technician's stools, dragging it over and sitting in front of Bucky. Bucky gazed at him, and Vivian glared as Pierce said, "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society's at a tipping point between order and chaos. And tomorrow morning, we're gonna give it a push."

Bucky was breathing quicker, staring over at her with wide, wet eyes, and she grit her teeth as Rumlow's fingernails dug into her arm, drawing blood. She was pretty sure her arm was bruising, and she forced herself to even out her breathing. As her breathing slowed, so did Bucky's.

"But, if you can't do your part, I can't do mine. And Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

Bucky tilted his head, looking as frustrated as Vivian felt as he said, "_But I knew him_."

Pierce sighed, standing up and shoving the chair away before he turned toward the technicians and said, "Prep him."

One of them, the one who didn't wear glasses, shook his head, "He's been out of cryo freeze too long. We know from experience with..." He glanced over at her before staring at the ground, "We know from experience that the prep work won't stick at this phase. There's been too much...adjustment."

"Then wipe him and start over," Pierce said.

Vivian pried herself away from Rumlow and moved over to Pierce's side. Guns were drawn on her before she even got to the man, but they didn't fire as he held up a single hand to get them to pause. Staring up into those cold eyes, Vivian begged, "Please, don't do this. He's never been wiped this many times in a single week before. We don't know how it'll affect him. He could become too erratic for his normal handlers to survive."

"Either he's wiped, or he's put down," Pierce said simply, narrowing his eyes. "We don't have time for your sentimentality, and you especially better hope you're wrong about him killing handlers."

"Am I being sent on the mission with him?" Vivian asked quietly.

Pierce smirked and gripped her by the chin, "I should leave you behind, but maybe it'll do you some good, seeing Hydra triumph. And if you're right, maybe the Soldier will save me one last clean up."

"Sir? Should we still..." the technician asked cautiously, trailing off nervously.

"Wipe him," Pierce repeated. He stared into Vivian's eyes as he said it, and she lowered her gaze, her hands clenched at her side until he released his grasp on her.

She turned and watched, her teeth grit and anger in her gaze as the technicians moved forward and pushed Bucky back into his seat. A bite guard was presented and Bucky glared at Pierce as he opened his mouth and accepted the guard. His body tensed as a loud sound erupted from the chair before a brace stabilized Bucky's right arm. His hands were clenched tightly, and Vivian could only watch in disgust and horror as his chest heaved with terrified breaths while the headpiece lowered onto him. Electricity zapped into him and he _ screamed_.

Vivian's legs gave out from under her and she knelt in front of his screaming body, tears slipping down her face as Pierce just turned and left. Rumlow followed, but Rollins stayed behind. Vivian's fingernails dug into her own palms, blood dripping onto the floor. Rollins tried to pull her up and she snapped, "No. I won't leave him."

Rollins grabbed her by her arm and yanked her up, pointing a gun at Bucky as he screamed and hissed into her ear, "He'll be the one, as always, to pay for your insubordination. Do you want that? Or will you follow orders?"

A tear slipped down Vivian's cheek and she squeezed her eyes shut before lowering her gaze toward the ground. Just one last day, she needed to obey. One last day, and she'd be able to get her and Buck out, but until then she needed to _ play along_. Vivian nodded and then let herself get led out of the room and toward a new room where gear was new clothing was waiting. None of it was armored, and that meant she was going into a firefight with no armor. 

She really was going to enjoy watching Hydra die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about having this chapter be from Bucky's POV, but then I realized I needed it to be from Viv's for the information presented in this chapter.
> 
> I appreciate y'all so much for how supportive you are of this story, of this entire trilogy really, and I honestly just am at a loss for words. You guys are the greatest. <3
> 
> What a way to finish out Valentine's Day weekend/Ashley_Bolton's birthday, huh? lmao


	27. Twenty-Seven: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst and the smallest amount of references to torture Vivian has endured

Even with the short rest that they'd all been allowed to take to get some of their energy back, Steve could feel how drained everyone was. It'd been a long week, but there was nothing they could do to take care of the exhaustion that resided deep in their souls until they'd taken care of the looming threat. It wasn't like they could ask Hydra to just hold off on their world domination plans because everyone in their group needed a vacation. Besides, he wouldn't be able to relax until Bucky and Viv were free.

Sam walked alongside him, and Steve sighed when he smiled at him, but then he paused when Clint stopped him before they went over to the table where they were all meeting. Sam shared a glance with him before going ahead and giving them some privacy. Looking at Clint, Steve quietly asked, "Is Nat gonna be okay?"

Clint nodded, smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes, "Yeah. I made sure she got some sleep, and she's actually, believe it or not, done wilder things than this with much less medical equipment at her disposal."

"Not really all that comforting, Clint," Steve said with a sigh.

"What about you? How are you holding up?" Clint asked.

Steve frowned, "When I woke up in this century, at first I dreamed of them all the time. New York reminded me of them a lot. Dreams where they were still alive. Dreams of the lives we'd had together. Nightmares of their deaths. Nightmares where they were alive, but hated me. All sorts of things. When I moved to DC, the dreams slowed down, but they didn't go away. Still, not once did I picture this. I didn't picture Bucky not knowing me. I didn't picture..." Steve swallowed hard. "I saw the room Viv was tortured in once. The entire place was covered in blood and tissue. Fragments of bones. It seemed like Hell. I remember feeling awful for that person. Mourning the death of someone I didn't know, but there was distance there, because I didn't know them. And now I know it was her blood. Her bones. Her _ skin_." He trailed off, staring at the floor before he whispered, "She went through that."

"And she's still alive. She remembers," Clint admitted. "And I don't know what to say about that or how to help with that, but I can have a bit of insight on Barnes."

Glancing up at that, Steve winced when Clint grinned, "That scepter was a bitch and a half. Scrambled my brain like it'd never been scrambled before, but I got through it. Natasha helped me through it. _ You _ helped me through it. Shit still isn't easy, but I'm here. I'm me again. I'm pretty sure we can do that for your boy."

Steve sighed and then joked weakly, "Pretty sure giving you orgasms didn't actually help you with anything serious, but I appreciate the thought."

Clint grinned widely, and Steve sighed as he was nudged toward the meeting. Hill and Fury were already there, a couple heavily encrypted laptops sitting in front of them as they whispered to each other, pointing to things on the screen. There was even a small case in front of Fury. Steve wasn't sure what was in it. Maria motioned for him to sit down as he entered, but he just stood. No, he was going to stand for this meeting. After a few moments, everyone else filed in. Clint and Natasha took seats next to each other while Sam opted for standing. For several moments, no one said anything. And then Fury pulled out a photo.

"This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize," Fury said, holding up a picture of Alexander Pierce. "He said peace wasn't an achievement, it was a _ responsibility_." He then tossed it onto the table and said, "See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

Natasha looked like she was doing better, but she still looked and sounded more than a little lethargic as she said, "We have to stop the launch."

Steve exchanged a glance with her before they both looked over at Fury. It took all of Steve's effort to not roll his eyes as Fury said, "I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore."

He opened up a briefcase revealing three microchips. Sam frowned, putting his hands on his hips as he asked, "What's that?"

"Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet," Maria began to explain, turning a computer around to show satellites on the screen, "they'll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized."

A schematic of a helicarrier popped up as Fury continued, "We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own."

"One or two won't cut it," Maria added. "We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die."

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra," Nick said. "We have to get past them, insert these server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left..."

Clint snorted from his seat next to Natasha, shaking his head as Steve glared and interrupted, "We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We're taking down SHIELD."

"SHIELD had nothing to do with this!" Fury insisted.

"You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised. You said so yourself. Hydra grew right under your nose, and nobody noticed!" Steve said, barely keeping his rage under control.

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" Fury retorted. "_I noticed_."

"How many paid the price before you did?" Steve demanded.

Fury looked at the people around him before lowering his gaze to the table, "Look, I didn't know about Barnes or Peshkova."

"Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, Hydra, it all goes."

"He's right," Hill whispered with a nod.

Fury glanced over at Barton, who stretched and said, "If someone shits in your coffee, you don't pick out the shit and keep drinking. You throw the whole damn thing out."

Natasha had rolled her eyes at that, but sat back, not saying anything. Her silence said enough and Fury then looked over at Sam, who shrugged, "Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower."

Steve stared down Fury, a little more relaxed now that he knew he had a team on his side, a team to help him take down Hydra for good. He wished it was the Howling Commandos, wished that Buck and Viv were there alongside him. He knew that wasn't fair though. Sam, Nat, Clint, Maria, and Fury were a good team. They really were. Hell, Clint, Sam, and Natasha practically were Howling Commandos in their own right. Although even knowing that, Steve also knew it would still be up to him to save Bucky and Viv.

Fury shook his head and chuckled before he said, "Well..." He then sighed and leaned back, "It looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."

Steve nodded and sighed, "All right then, here's the plan. The helicarriers are located by the triskelion. We'll head there. Natasha, I need you to keep Pierce occupied and if at all possible, dump as many of the files as you can. It'll distract some of their techs. We'll get as many SHIELD agents aware of Hydra and on our side. They're not going to make it easy. I'm assuming you'll need Fury in order to accomplish that."

Fury nodded, "Requires alpha level clearance to do what you're asking, and I doubt Pierce will be cooperative."

Steve nodded, "You and Natasha coordinate how best to get up there. Maria, you're going to be in charge of the control room. It's up to you to make sure that once the blades are replaced that the helicarriers can be destroyed. We don't want to give Hydra the chance to just undo what we did."

"I can do that," Maria admitted. "I can have them target each other instead of the algorithm's target list."

"Great," Steve said and then nodded to Sam, "You and I will be putting the blades in. Hopefully we won't need you to use your wings, but there's no guarantee."

"Understood," Sam said.

Clint arched an eyebrow and Steve's lip quirked before he said, "You're our eyes on the ground. I need you to take out as many Hydra agents as you can, keeping them from interfering with the mission. Pay special attention to Hydra gaining air support outside of the helicarriers."

"Got it, Cap," Clint said with a grin.

Nodding, Steve then headed out of the room and wanted to go get a breath of fresh air. He knew Buck and Viv were both going to be there. He didn't know if Vivian would be working against him, but he was pretty sure that Bucky would be.

"Steve, wait."

Pausing and turning toward Natasha, Steve frowned as she then walked alongside him. They both headed up and outside. Steve stared at all the trees. Once they were alone and out there, he frowned when Natasha said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

Steve's hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket and they clenched into fists as Natasha confessed, "I could have told you about Vivian years ago, but I didn't."

"I thought Viv didn't tell you her real name until the bridge?" Steve whispered, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears.

"She didn't, but..." Natasha bit her bottom lip before she confessed, "I was the one who planted the bugs in your DC apartment. I also monitored them sometimes. Deleted some of the more...private interactions you had with Barton." Steve's eyes widened and his cheeks tinged pink, but Natasha just looked amused for a moment. She then became more serious as she said, "I saw the photos you had of her, and I recognized Vivian."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I knew her as Hecate. Back when I knew her, she was being kept by the Red Room. She described herself as being 'stuck in hell' when she told me to get out of the organization, and said there were things she needed to fix. After the Red Room failed, I kept recognizing her signature on assassinations. I started wondering if her story had been just that. And then I found out she was...Vivian Peshkova, and I don't know. I was worried that you wouldn't believe me. We weren't _ friends_, but I also didn't want to hurt you. I figured letting you believe she died a hero was better than having her be a villain in your eyes. I was wrong."

_ It’s never, Stevie. Those bastards killed her. Our Viv’s not coming home. _

Steve blinked back tears, inhaling sharply, but not saying anything. His mind was a whir of memories. Vivian dancing with him, taking care of him, _ loving him_. He could remember that last night he'd had with her. He could remember all the nights he'd had with her.

"When she made me promise not to hurt Barnes, she also made me promise something else."

Steve glanced over, heart in his throat as he stared at Natasha. For a moment, she didn't say anything, but then she sighed and said, "She made me promise to tell you that Barnes isn't gone. She said, '_Tell Steve he can't give up. Tell him that Buck's still in there, that the brainwashing isn't perfect and that he will remember him_.' I asked her how it would be possible, and she said, '_He'll know. He always knows._'"

Steve stared forward, not saying anything as Natasha walked away. Somehow Vivian still had faith in him, had faith in him despite all of his failings and he didn't know why. He didn't know why she believed in him after he failed her time after time.

_ Moving forward, Steve didn’t say anything, but just by being near the two, he could feel his head clearing and the pain in chest lifting. He didn’t want to get used to it though. After all, the big plan was to get Bucky and Vivian to get married. Their dream of the three of them being together had felt so far away, and the fact that they were his entire universe, that he loved both of them equally, just didn't seem to be something society cared about. _

_ Sighing, Steve got to the bottom of the steps when suddenly Vivi pulled him tightly into a hug and whispered into his ear, “Remember what I said, Steve. You will never be alone and we will always be by your side.” _

_ Nodding and hugging Vivian back, he breathed in the scent of her sweet perfume, wondering if she could tell even through his heartache just how much he loved her. Being in the public eye meant he couldn’t show it to either Bucky or Vivian the way he wanted to, but he hoped they still knew. Nodding once the hug ended, he smiled softly when she gently questioned, “Do you want me to stay with you?” _

_ “Don’t you have to be in class?” _

_ Vivian shrugged and Steve chuckled before whispering, “Go to class. You’re so close to being finished and once you are, you’ll be a nurse, just like you were always meant to be.” _

_ Vivian sighed, but then nodded and Steve smiled when she hugged him again before kissing his cheek. Squeezing her hand, he chuckled when she spoke again, “Call me if you need anything. Okay?” _

_ Nodding, Steve swallowed hard, his hands shoved deep into his pocket to stop himself from reaching out for her as she walked away. He sighed though when Bucky squeezed his arm and whispered, “Why’d you send her away?” _

_ Shrugging, Steve sighed, his voice quiet as he whispered, “She’s a great dame, and she just started studying to be a nurse. I don’t want to mess her up already.” _

_ Bucky was staring pointedly at him and Steve knew that Bucky knew what he was thinking. Turning and heading up toward his door, he kept his mouth shut as Bucky spoke up, “We looked for you after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.” _

_ “I know, I’m sorry. It’s…I kinda wanted to be alone.” _

_ “How was it?” _

_ Swallowing hard, Steve winced before admitting, “It’s okay. She’s next to Dad.” _

_ “I was gonna ask…” _

_ Shaking his head and pushing his hair out of his face, Steve spoke up, interrupting before Bucky could continue, “I know what you’re gonna say, Buck, it’s just…” _

_ Starting to search for his keys as he got to his door, Steve began to get more frustrated as he realized he couldn’t find his key while Bucky replied gently, “We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids. It’ll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash. Come on…” _

_ Turning around as Bucky held out a key, Steve accepted it before replying, “Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own.” _

_ Staring up into Bucky’s eyes, steadying himself and preparing himself as Bucky shook his head, his voice serious as he spoke up, “The thing is, you don’t have to.” _

_ Frowning, Steve could feel his heart beating rapidly as the man then reached out and squeezed his shoulder while reassuring, “I’m with you ‘till the end of the line, pal. Viv is too.” _

_ Sighing and smiling weakly, Steve nodded and let Bucky pull him into a hug. Hugging the man tightly, he sighed when Bucky led him into the apartment only to almost immediately speak up, “Move in with me.” _

_ Turning and staring at Bucky in shock, Steve sighed before replying, “If you’re offering because you feel sorry for me, Buck, then you can take your offer and shove it—” _

_ “I want to live with you, Stevie.” _

_ Expression softening, Steve swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but then sighed when Bucky pleaded with him, “C’mon, please. Get a place with me. I’ll take care of you. Viv will be able to come over easier. You’ll be able to—” _

_ “How am I supposed to help you pay for a new place? How am I supposed to get my stuff out of this apartment? Buck…” _

_ Staring into Bucky’s eyes, Steve sighed at the pain in the expression, but moved closer and whispered, “I’ll think about it, okay? I just…I need something in my life to be steady for now. That’s all.” _

_ “Anything you need, Stevie, and I’m here for you. Viv is too.” _

_ “I know, Buck. I know.” _

_ Smiling weakly and sitting on the couch, Steve glanced over at Bucky and couldn’t help but smile wider when Bucky sat next to him on the couch and gently rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone. Sending a sideways glance over at the man, Steve huffed a small laugh before whispering, “I really will think about it, Buck. I want to live with you. I want to be able to be with you without worrying about getting caught. I just don’t want you to be doing this out of pity or because you think I can’t take care of myself. Also don’t want you to regret it.” _

_ Instantly Bucky scoffed and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple while murmuring, “What part of ‘till the end of the line did you not get, punk?” _

"They're gonna be there, you know," Sam said, breaking Steve out of his memories.

"I know," Steve replied carefully.

"Look, whoever they used to be and whoever they are now, I'm not sure they're the kind you save. They're the kind you stop."

Steve glanced at Sam, for a moment glad their relationship had never progressed past friendship. If they'd had time and if Sam had shown an inclination to want more, then Sam saying that would have hurt him all the more. The idea that someone could look at him and just think he could turn on the people he loved was unthinkable, but Sam barely knew him, didn't truly know how far Steve would go to save Bucky or Viv.

"I don't know if I can do that," Steve whispered.

"Well, they might not give you a choice. I don't know what her game is, and he doesn't know you."

"He will," Steve insisted. And then focused forward again. From the way Sam was talking, he doubted he'd take much comfort in the words Viv had told Natasha in the middle of a Hydra attack, so he kept them to himself. "Gear up. It's time."

Steve then headed off, a plan already in his mind as Sam called over, "You gonna wear that?"

"No. If you're gonna fight a war, you got to wear a uniform," Steve said, glancing over his shoulder.

Heading down to the area, he saw Clint whispering to Natasha, who'd gotten dressed into an outfit that didn't look like hers at all. Clint himself was in his gear and smirked at him once Natasha left. Clint headed to his side and said, "I know that look. You've got some dumbass plan. What are we doing?"

"I've got to get my suit from the Smithsonian," Steve admitted.

Clint burst into laughter, tilting his head back and sighing, "Shit, all right."

"Not even going to ask me why I need it?"

Clint smiled, "I mean, you can tell me on the way there, but if you say you need your uniform from the 1940s, then who am I to argue? After all, pretty sure your stealth suit got confiscated by douchebags. Besides, I have a pretty good idea of what you think that uniform will do for you."

Steve rolled his eyes and they headed off. Clint drove him there and waited while Steve broke in (it was disturbingly easy to do), and then pulled the uniform off the mannequin. Once he got back into the car, he rolled his eyes as Clint took a bite of a huge breakfast burrito. Snatching the other one as Clint held it out, Steve pointed out, "We were here to steal a uniform, not get breakfast."

Clint shrugged, "I decided we could do both. I got more for everyone else. Besides, we all need the fuel. Eat it on the way back. If Hydra wins because Captain America wouldn't eat breakfast, it'll be both awful and also a hilarious reminder that will be given to schoolchildren while we're all under an authoritarian dictatorship. Well, I say _ we_. We'll be dead."

"Spoken like a true optimist," Steve said with an eye roll, but began eating it on the way there. Truth be told he _ was _ really hungry. Breakfast at Sam's place had been a full day before. As soon as he finished his first burrito, he was handed a second by Clint who hadn't taken his eyes off the road to do so.

By the time they got back to the place, Steve had eaten _ three _ of the burritos and was feeling more energized. They'd gotten a few moments for him to put on his old uniform as Clint passed out the rest of the food. Once they were done, they all headed as quietly as possible as they could to the triskelion. The helicopter that they took got them to the roof. Leaving it up on the roof, Steve nodded to Maria. She pulled out some gadget, taking out the dish before they headed to the door. Sam and Maria kept their guns raised for anyone that would answer. All they had to do was wait. Clint meanwhile winked at all of them before slipping down the stairwell to head toward the helicarriers.

They didn't have to wait long before a man answered. His outfit said 'Moore', and Steve tilted his head before he casually said, "Excuse us."

Immediately Moore raised both his hands in the air and backed out of their way. Everyone in their way took a step actually before they reached the PA system. An agent even reached over and turned it on for him, motioning him forward. Smiling, Steve leaned over, taking a deep breath before he said, "Attention all SHIELD agents: this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth."

Steve glanced up, remembering that this was the right thing to do, their best chance to get both support and people to safety as he continued, "SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by Hydra. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not."

Turning the PA system off, Steve stood up, wanting to roll his eyes as Sam teased, "Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. Look at that. Hydra's about to get demolished. That's exciting! I thoroughly enjoyed putting Clint into this scene. I love him so much.
> 
> Sorry about how short this one is, but next chapter will be much longer. And also from Viv's point of view.


	28. Twenty-Eight: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: lots of murder, lots of violence, and also Vivian technically self-harms during the removal of tech from her arm. Specifically she slices her arm open for surgery on herself. It is graphic.
> 
> "Pausing and glancing at her own arm, Vivian could see a faint blinking under the skin and groaned."
> 
> is the sentence before the self-harm/surgery begins.
> 
> "Shaking her head, she winced as an explosion sent debris and water hurtling into the air." is the sentence to then pick back up on if you want to skip the self-harm/self-surgery section. She will just flippantly list the thing she did to herself, but it won't be a drawn out explanation. You'll also still have to deal with blood and blood loss.

Vivian heart raced as Tanner drove them to the triskelion. Barnes was back to being _ The Soldier_. Glancing over at him, she hoped with everything in her that Natasha had both passed the message along to Steve and that Steve could follow up on it in order to save Bucky. She wasn't worried about Steve agreeing to try to save Bucky. No, the only way Steve wouldn't try would be if he wasn't told it was possible. And even then, she had a pretty good idea that he'd try anyway.

The Strike team had been sent forward already, much to Vivian's annoyance. She'd been hoping to at least kill Rumlow and Rollins while this whole thing was going down, but that had been a childish dream. She should have known that they would definitely be pulled aside specially by order of Pierce. They were his favorite. Fucking lap dogs.

"You know what your orders are?" Tanner asked, turning in his seat after he parked near the helicarrier area.

"Kill SHIELD," The soldier replied emotionlessly.

"Good," Tanner said, still looking nervous. The soldier grabbed weapons and got out. Before Tanner could get out, Vivian climbed into the front seat and grabbed his gun.

Pressing the gun against Tanner's chin, Vivian smirked at him and whispered, "You really shouldn't have come."

"Please...don't. _ No, _" Tanner begged.

Vivian grinned mockingly, "_Yes_."

She then pulled the trigger. The sound was loud and his blood splattered across the back of the seat and the roof of the car. His body slumped and his eyes were vacant. She left him slumped into that front seat and climbed out of the car before she began unloading gear from the back. There was a whole stash of guns, ammo, and more than a few knives. She took as many as she could comfortably carry, which wasn't as much as she wanted to be honest, but then again, she was wearing jeans, combat boots, a couple layered shirts, and a light jacket. It wasn't like she had abundant storage capabilities.

The biggest and best weapons had already been grabbed by the soldier. His entire outfit was designed and outfitted to make him a one man army. Unfortunately, her insistence on getting rid of Tanner (he'd deserved it after the way he'd stalked and spied on Steve for Hydra) meant that by the time she caught up with the soldier, he'd already been on a bit of a rampage. In fact, he seemed to have demolished most of the potential air support for Steve.

Bodies were strewn over the ground, some just in pieces. She figured that was from the grenade launcher. Multiple quinjets had just exploded. She wasn't sure what all he'd done to them, but he sure as hell had been efficient. Vivian cursed as she saw him climb on top of what looked to be the last remaining quinjet of that particular area and kill the pilot before climbing in. Bucky had initiated take-off before she could even get near him. Vivian wished she'd gotten there sooner since she knew the chances of her getting a ride to the helicarriers at this point was fading fast. She just had to trust that Steve could handle it. Besides, she could help keep the remaining agents away from him and his allies.

"Traitor!"

Rolling her eyes as a Hydra agent screamed that, Vivian was about to shoot him, but then smirked when an arrow went through his throat. Going over and ripping the arrow from his throat, she then turned toward where it came from. She was about to head toward it when a blond man jumped down from where he was and approached her instead. He had a weapon raised, so she raised her hands while laughing, "Huh, I've honestly only seen you through a scope and through surveillance photos. Never see you up this close, but you must be Clint Barton."

Clint shot past her, hitting a Hydra agent. She didn't flinch, just stood still as the chaos continued around them. Clint was eyeing her warily and she released the arrow, letting it hover in midair. Clint paused and said, "You know, Natasha claimed you weren't bad. She said there was hope for you. Do you want her to be wrong?"

"You often in the habit of not trusting her gut?" Vivian teased.

"No, but if you kill me, she won't spare you."

Vivian grinned, "That's good to hear. That means she paid attention."

Vivian then used her abilities to shoot the bloody arrow forward. Clint aimed again at her, firing, but she dodged it, rolling her eyes as the arrow she sent went into the neck of the Hydra agent that had been coming up behind Clint. Clint startled as the agent crumpled behind him before he said, "Oh. Shit. That fucker was gonna stab me in the back, wasn't he?"

"Yeah. Pretty sure," Vivian sighed, moving over and standing next to him, kicking the body.

"Which means you were aiming the arrow at him the entire time, not me," Clint said quietly.

"Don't sound so disappointed. You make it sound like you wanted me to try to kill you."

"I really didn't want that."

Vivian sneered, "Then fucking look happier. Fuck. What's the plan here anyway?"

"Sam and Steve are taking out the helicarriers. Hill's gonna destroy the ships once that's done. Natasha's keeping Pierce busy until Fury can join in. What about you? You got a plan for keeping The Winter Soldier from destroying everyone here beyond hoping Steve can talk him down?"

"That's the only plan I need, Barton," Vivian said. "Anyway, we should probably keep killing Hydra agents. Those fuckers aren't gonna stop."

"Wait," Clint said, grabbing onto her arm.

Vivian stopped and sighed, pulling out a gun and shooting a Hydra agent running their way before she asked, "What?"

"I can tell Steve you're here. I can tell him you're helping us."

"That's a terrible idea," Vivian groaned. "He's already got his plate full with the helicarriers and The Winter Soldier. If he knows I'm here in the middle of this battle, he's just going to worry."

"I can explain it to him."

"_With what time_?" Vivian shouted. "Look around you. Now's not the time. Hell, Hydra's been activated all over the goddamn globe. Whatever we got here to work toward preventing the end of the fucking world is all we've got. Unlike New York, the X-Men probably aren't going to show up to save us, because they're busy keeping New York safe again."

"Shit, you were there, weren't you? I thought I saw you there."

Vivian rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from Clint before she insisted, "Eyes on the prize, Barton. Get up high and snipe as many people as you can. We don't have time to play these games."

Glancing up at the helicarriers as they raised into the air, Vivian turned toward Clint and then muttered, "_Fuck_."

Clint arched an eyebrow and she nodded toward the triskelion, "Change of plan. You want to do something? Go evacuate everyone from this area. I'll take care of the hydra agents down here."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because those helicarriers are eventually going to come down. Where the fuck do you think they're gonna fall? Anyone who's in the way is going to _ die _ . If they don't start evacuating _ now_, they're not gonna get out in time. They're gonna be in that fucking zone, and there'll be nothing we can do to help them. So go. _ Go_."

"What about you?"

As Vivian turned and began walking away, Vivian called over her shoulder, "One, I can't die, and two, I don't fucking matter. Now go. If Rumlow and Rollins aren't already with Pierce, they'll be going to him to protect him. Natasha will need your backup."

"Fine." Clint nodded, gritting his teeth. Before he left though he shouted, "You're wrong though. You do matter."

"Oh my god, we don't fucking have time for you to play therapist, Barton. _ Go_."

Barton glared, but ran off, and Vivian brought her gun up and aimed, firing at Hydra agents as they ran toward Clint. She breathed slowly and deliberately, only using a single shot on each of them. Just clean shots in each of their foreheads and she watched each one crumple to the ground as Clint made his way back to the triskelion.

Shooting up into the air, Vivian shouted, "All right, everyone. If you're actually SHIELD agents, vacate the premises. If you're a hydra agent, die already. Also, if you're Hydra agents and you run, you will be located and killed later."

"Hail Hydra!" a voice sneered, and Vivian turned in time to catch a knife being thrust toward her. Twisting it, she then slammed it into the person's throat, glaring.

"God, you guys are the worst," Vivian muttered, ripping the knife back out and shaking her head as the person gurgled, choking on their own blood before they died.

Getting up, Vivian shook her head and headed toward the helicarriers. Ideally she'd be up there, helping Steve take them out, but she didn't know if she could propel herself up that high. And even then, she wasn't sure how Steve would react to her. Maybe Natasha had passed her messages along and maybe not. And maybe it didn't matter regardless. After all, he'd have known from the messages that she remembered herself. She remembered them. She had control of her body and was with Hydra. There was a chance he thought she was just actually loyal to those scumbags.

Maybe he hated her. She deserved for him to hate her.

Vivian shook her head, shoving the thoughts away as she wished for help. She wished for the X-Men to show up. This time she would go to them. She'd ask them for help. Although even that seemed like a stupid dream. If there was a chance that Steve hated her then was there even really a chance that people who'd never known her, never _ loved _ her, would ever give her the time of day?

Would Professor Charles Xavier ever let her near his school?

Covering her hands over her ears and closing her eyes, Vivian _ screamed_, letting a wave of energy blast from her. It felt like an explosion from her and when she opened her eyes, she glanced around and saw that a good dozen Hydra agents had been thrown away from her. Most had landed on the ground. Some were twisted in unnatural ways. Their spines were broken. Some had landed on their heads and blood pooled out underneath them.

Vivian stared out at their bodies, her eyes wide. It'd been years since she'd lost control of her mutant abilities. Years since they'd welled up in her and lashed out. Hell, last time she could remember was a time she actually _ couldn't _ remember really. It'd been back when Fennhoff had been alive, back when he'd been trying to twist her mind, and she'd lashed out, killing him. Years after recovering from that time, and still the memories of those events were foggy at best.

Glancing up, Vivian saw a few Hydra agents just drop their weapons. They stood frozen there, and Vivian moved toward them and asked, "Did you know you were going to be killing twenty million people today? Just random people. Most of them are innocent. Their only crime being that they may someday turn against Hydra. Did you know that?"

A few nodded, and Vivian asked, "Were you okay with that?"

The ones that nodded, she snapped their necks and then kept moving. There was only one person left standing and their entire body was trembling. They were sobbing and she stared into their eyes as she whispered, "Why are you here?"

"I just...they told me I could help people. That's all. I thought I could help people."

"Do you think what Hydra is doing is wrong?" Vivian whispered, pushing the woman's hair behind her ear. "I promise, there aren't any wrong answers."

The woman took a deep breath and then whispered, "Then no, I don't."

"Then I lied. There is a wrong answer," Vivian said, and she snapped the woman's neck. The woman crumpled to the ground in front of her and Vivian stepped over her, heading toward the helicarriers as they got further and further into the air. She glanced back at the triskelion as it loomed above her. Grabbing the wrist of the woman she just killed, Vivian looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed.

Not enough time to go to both locations.

Pierce would certainly be on the top level of the triskelion. Barton was already headed up there and Natasha would be there as well. She glanced back at the helicarriers. Steve was there. Bucky was there. She had to make a choice about which she would go for. For a moment she felt frozen, but then she realized there wasn't really a choice here. There was only one way she wanted to go, only one way where she wouldn't hate herself afterward, and then she took off running toward the helicarriers.

She ran as fast as she could toward the helicarriers, keeping an eye on them for something, _ anything _ to tell her that they were okay. As she reached the shore near where they were drifting, Vivian tried figuring out where they would end up, keeping herself moving until suddenly the ships started firing on _ each other_.

"_Steve! _ " Vivian screamed. "_Bucky!_"

Vivian felt sick, the whole world seeming to tip and slide off its axis as she stared up at the sky between each of the ships. She didn't know which one they were on, and that was if they were still on them. She hoped they weren't. She desperately, deliriously hoped they weren't, but she didn't know. She didn't know whether Steve had gotten off or not. Obviously whatever crazy plan he'd had worked, but she didn't want this to be another Valkyrie. She didn't want this to be a plan that resulted in Steve needlessly sacrificing himself.

A small item then fell from one of the ships and she watched as it got closer and closer to the water. Vivian slowed it down and then yanked it toward herself. Once she did, she fell to her knees. It was the shield. It _ was Steve's _ shield. Hugging it tightly to her body, Vivian sobbed, her fingertips gripping at it tightly as she begged, "Please. _ Please_. _ Steve _ . Please don't leave me here. _ Please _. I just got you back."

Vivian was still hugging that shield, hoping that this wasn't a sign of what she thought it was when she saw another shape fall from the same helicarrier. Dropping the shield, Vivian tried to slow down the shape, but then she felt herself _ scream _ as she saw it was Steve.

Steve was falling.

She watched him hit the water, debris falling around him. He hadn't done anything to make his fall better. He'd just fallen. Not even a sound had come from him when he'd made impact, and as she got into the water, she saw Bucky jump in after him. Meeting Bucky halfway as he dragged Steve to the shore by one of the straps of his uniform, Vivian winced and begged, "Please, be careful. Buck, be careful with him."

Bucky set him on the shore, his expression a mixture of emotions, and Vivian immediately dropped to her knees by Steve. Gently tilting his chin up, her hands shook as she traced his bruised and swollen cheek. His split lip. God, his cheek was even split open. She then realized he wasn't breathing.

Cursing, Vivian pressed her hands together and then pushed down on Steve's chest, putting her full body weight into it as she built up the correct speed and rhythm. Bucky just stood and watched, not making a sound, and she didn't say anything either. Pausing her chest compressions, she then tilted Steve's head back, checked to make sure his airway was clear before pinching his nose and blowing two quick puffs of air into his mouth. She then resumed her chest compressions.

"Is he dead?" Bucky whispered.

"No," Vivian panted, stopping to give more air to Steve. This time, he turned and coughed up water and she sighed with relief, gently tilting him so that he wouldn't choke on the water. Running her fingers through her hair, Vivian sighed, "He'll be okay. I think. I just have to get him some help."

Bucky looked like he wanted to leave, so Vivian stood up and grabbed his metal arm. He froze and she gently slid her hand up his and then opened up a compartment. He stared at her, waiting for what she was going to do. Using a knife, she pried out the bomb and the tracker, throwing them into the water.

"You're safe now," Vivian whispered. "They can't use those to find you anymore. I promise."

Vivian turned back toward Steve. Unfortunately, his suit was such that just getting him out of it would probably mean that she would agitate some of his injuries. Peeling off her jacket, Vivian then pulled off one of the shirts she was wearing and began tearing it up. Wrapping his shoulder, she tied it off, hopeful that the bleeding on that wound seemed minimal.

Most of his wounds seemed more annoying than anything else for a super soldier, but it was his stomach wound that bothered her. Pressing the rest of the shirt against his stomach, she shuddered as she saw that the wound was still bleeding. Although truthfully, Vivian was more concerned that he was most likely bleeding internally. Bucky was staring at Steve, his face pale and drawn, but he didn't move closer to Steve at all. Just stared, his expression closed off.

Pausing and glancing at her own arm, Vivian could see a faint blinking under the skin and groaned. Taking a deep breath, Vivian braced her left arm against the ground and then began slicing open her wrist with a knife. She hissed in a breath through clenched teeth as blood poured into the mud and grass. She could hear Bucky's choked breath and the step he took toward her, but she didn't look at him. She stayed focused on her arm, which unfortunately looked to be a purposeful clusterfuck. She was pretty sure the tracker and the bomb had been placed in her arm in the most obnoxious positions possible.

Glancing nervously at Steve to make sure he was still breathing, Vivian then took a deep breath, holding open the skin of her arm with her mind as best she could. The pain was becoming overwhelming, because her skin _ wanted _ to stitch back together. Her body _ wanted _ to fix the wound she'd just made. Bucky took another step closer.

Taking the blade, Vivian then counted back from three before she slammed it down, shoving it between the tracker and the bone. She then twisted, popping it out. The blade scraped against bone and she yelped. Pausing, Vivian grabbed the tracker and threw it into the water. Her body was shaking, and she then focused back on her arm. It had started to heal, so she had to reopen the cut to get a good look at everything. She repeated what she did with the bomb, trying to be careful, but unfortunately, she sliced right through her artery.

"God fucking damn it," Vivian hissed, avoiding looking at Bucky.

Blood spurted onto the ground and she ditched the knife, digging her fingers into the wound, black spots forming in her vision as she finally got a hold of the bomb and then threw it as far as she could into the water. She even gave it a little boost with her mind. Vivian pressed her arm against her chest then, feeling the pulsing blood soak her shirt and she turned and vomited. She never had gotten used to that kind of pain.

Shaking her head, she winced as an explosion sent debris and water hurtling into the air. Pressing her body on top of Steve's, Vivian shielded him as best as she could from it all and then sat back, feeling more than a little dizzy from blood loss. Once it passed, Vivian glanced up to see that Bucky was gone. She wasn't sure if it was her covered in blood that had sent him running or the explosion in the lake, but he was no longer with her. Sighing, Vivian glanced down at Steve's unconscious form and shook her head.

"Okay, _ now _ how am I gonna get you out of here, and where the fuck am I gonna take you?"

Steve remained unconscious, not responding to her question, and Vivian sighed, "Yeah, you're no help. If you were awake, you'd just be losing your mind about my wrist. You're the one who got shot, but you'd be making it about me. Never could just let people take care of you. You always saw it as being a burden, even if it was never true."

It took a bit of maneuvering to pull Steve's head into her lap with one hand. Once she did, she gently stroked his hair and whispered, "You're gonna make it through this, Steve. You will, because I know you. Even before the serum, you and Buck were the strongest people I'd ever known."

Glancing across the water at the burning triskelion, Vivian shook her head. It was going to be a bit of a trek to get to a vehicle, but getting to one was still less movement than trying to carry Steve all the way to the hospital by herself. No matter how difficult it was, no matter how weak she felt, she _ was _ going to get him to safety.

The sound of a helicopter made Vivian glance up, and she frowned as she saw it land on the ground nearby. It was loud, very loud, and it was a testament to how injured Steve was that he still wasn't awake. Keeping a hand on her gun, Vivian relaxed when Natasha approached with Clint Barton and the man from the bridge by her side. She assumed that he was the Sam that Clint had mentioned in the plan.

"How bad is he hurt?" Natasha asked, looking concerned.

"Badly," Vivian admitted. "Got stabbed in the shoulder and shot in the gut as well as the leg. He's got broken ribs. Although that's because he wasn't breathing when we pulled him out of the water. I performed CPR on him. I don't know what else is wrong, because I'm afraid removing the suit will just make it worse. And I don't exactly have medical gear on me."

"What happened to your arm?" Sam asked, frowning.

"I did," Vivian said. "You three going to be able to get Steve onto the helicopter?"

"What do you mean _ you _ did?"

Rolling her eyes, "I had to remove a tracker and a bomb. It got a little messy. It's not important. Can you guys get Steve to a hospital or not?"

"We can, but you should really come with us," Clint said cautiously. "Looks like you really fucked up your wrist."

"Slicing through your artery and scraping the bone tends to do that."

"Jesus," Sam muttered, shaking his head. "How are you still conscious?"

"Mostly spite," Vivian said, grinning and shaking her head as a dizzy spell caused her to almost lose her balance. She nodded to Steve and said, "I'm not as bad as he is. You're gonna have to make him actually follow the doctor's orders. He's gonna wanna be on his feet and fighting again before he's ready. Don't let him."

"And how do you suggest we make the 240 pound super soldier do what he's told?" Sam demanded incredulously.

"He knows you're alive," Natasha added. "He knows Barnes is alive. Do you really think he'll just lay around when you two are out here?"

Vivian shook her head, "No, contrary to current evidence, I'm not stupid. I know he'll come looking for Bucky." She paused and sighed, "I don't know if he'll come looking for me, and if he tries, tell him to not do that, okay? I just...I'm not going to be gone forever. I promise I won't, but I need some time."

"Time for what? A murder tour of Hydra?" Clint scoffed.

Vivian shrugged, "Maybe? I don't know. Right now all I know is that Bucky's more important than me, and dividing up resources will just slow him down. I _ will _ come back to Steve. I will. I promise. I just...I need time."

Sam sighed, "You're giving him an out."

"I didn't say that."

"You basically did."

"God, what are you, a therapist?"

"Actually, yeah. Group counselor down at the VA," Sam said proudly.

Vivian groaned, "Of course you are."

Clint rolled his eyes and threw up his hands while announcing, "I'm going to go get the stretcher from the helicopter."

Vivian nodded, and winced when Natasha sent Sam a look before crouching next to Steve's body. Sam headed toward the helicopter and Vivian shook her head as Natasha said, "I owe you."

"You don't owe me shit," Vivian retorted.

"You kept me safe in the Red Room, helped me get out, and you saved my life back on the bridge."

Vivian rolled her eyes, "You kept yourself safe, you got yourself out, and you were not going to fucking die from a single gunshot wound to the shoulder. That puts me at precisely zero out of three on that front, so you're off the hook."

Natasha frowned, shaking her head. She looked like she wanted to say something, but then they were interrupted. Sam and Clint came back carrying the stretcher and then set it next to Steve. Sam gently picked up Steve by the shoulders while Clint grabbed his legs. Vivian helped stabilize him as best as she could as they moved him on before Natasha strapped Steve in.

"Last chance to join us," Clint said. "We can't and won't force you to come, but...it'd be the right thing to do."

Vivian scoffed, "_The right thing to do_."

Standing up as they lifted up Steve's stretcher, Vivian pressed a kiss to his temple before whispering in his ear, "I love you." Pulling back, Vivian blinked back tears and grinned, "Take care of my boy or there'll be hell to pay."

"Come with us and take care of him yourself," Natasha said.

Vivian let her fingertips brush against Steve's bruised cheek one last time before she shook her head and left. She was still dizzy, but her wrist had at least stopped bleeding. Unfortunately, it would still be too weak to use for a couple more hours. Walking back over to where Hydra's vehicles were parked took up a good chunk of the time, but that also just added to her exhaustion. Unfortunately, using the car Tanner was in wasn't really an option thanks to her previous decision to kill him in it. She really should have dragged him outside the vehicle before executing him.

Luckily STRIKE had arrived in their own SUVs and she hotwired the vehicle before driving back to the bank. From the outside, everything looked exactly as it had when she'd last left there, although it did seem a touch unguarded. She became deeply confused when once she entered the bank, the Hydra agents she did find were dead.

In fact, there was just a trail of bodies leading down to the vault.

She followed it, realization dawning on her as she came across the chair and found it demolished. Bucky. Bucky had come back to the bank. Shaking her head, Vivian headed to a safe, not bothering to be quiet as she broke it open and then pulled out the hidden external hard drive. Bucky's history and her history were both fragmented across the globe. Some parts were more easily found than others, duplicated across the country.

However, there was only one complete record of the missions associated with Hecate and the Winter Soldier. Oh, the names of people they killed were available in a lot of other places, and God only knew how many times records of their torture had been passed around. The thing that made this record more complete than the others though was that it listed _ everything_.

It listed the names of every single agent who so much as looked at that mission as well as the names of the people who sanctioned it and who contracted it. It was a gigantic book of secrets. Some of the most powerful people in the world were listed in that data, and most of them were not official members of Hydra. Taking it, Vivian paused and grabbed a wrist brace from the medical supplies, putting it on her left arm.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Glancing up at a woman as she approached, her eyes wide and her body shaking, Vivian looked her up and down before she said, "Tell me what happened here."

The woman twisted her hands in front of her before she confessed, "The Winter Soldier showed up and he...he said his mission was complete? He said Captain America was dead, and then he just...he started killing people."

"Full offense, why are you still alive?"

"I begged him to let me live. I told him that I have kids. I have a family. I didn't...I didn't want to be part of Hydra, you know. I was in debt and I was told I could get out of it, and then by the time I realized who I was working for, they knew everything about me. They threatened my kids," she whispered.

Vivian sighed, "Yeah, well, now's as good a time as any to turn yourself in and testify against the Hydra agents that got arrested."

"Yeah."

"You should probably get out of here before I change my mind and kill you," Vivian admitted. "I hotwired the SUV out back. Should still be working. Take it and go."

The woman's eyes widened and she nodded, rushing out of the building. Vivian shook her head and slung the bag over her shoulder. The bag wasn't heavy, but her body was still somewhat weak from blood loss as well as physical exertion. She needed food and rest. She figured she'd be able to get some sort of motel room until she figured out a game plan. Part of her wanted to immediately go to Natasha and Steve, but she knew that wasn't fair to them, even if Natasha had offered. Heading out of the bank, Vivian sighed as she found herself facing down a good half dozen guns.

"Drop the bag and get down on the ground or we _ will _ shoot you!" a man insisted.

Vivian sighed once again and dropped the bag before falling to her knees. She didn't have the energy or the concentration to try and take them out at once. And taking them out one by one wasn't an option. At least one of these idiots would manage to get a headshot at this range, and she didn't want to have to regrow part of her brain _ again_.

"Down on the ground!"

Rolling her eyes, Vivian lay down on the ground, wishing that she had gone on that helicopter. It was too late for that, and she took a deep breath as she felt the gun press to the back of her head. He nudged her and she pressed her face tighter against the concrete before the gun pulled back slightly. The gun fired, and she winced, but then she realized that nothing made impact. Glancing up, Vivian inhaled sharply as she found herself staring at a bullet frozen two inches in front of her face. Grabbing her bag and moving out of the way, she flinched as the bullet began moving again, embedding in the concrete where her head had been.

She then looked up again in time to see all the Hydra agents fly backward. When she looked toward where the energy had come from, she smiled as she saw a woman with dark red hair approaching. Her hand was outstretched and Vivian was relieved as she saw the X-Men logo across her uniform. It took her a minute to figure out which mutant she was considering it'd been years since she'd seen photos, but that was definitely Jean Grey.

Of the men who'd attacked her, all but one was just unconscious, and the one that was awake fainted as Nightcrawler appeared out of thin air. His tail swished, razor sharp and glinting in the sunlight. Shaking her head, Vivian leaned against the wall of the bank as Nightcrawler nervously took a few steps back.

"I don't want to seem ungrateful, because I super appreciate you stopping that bullet from entering my brain, but what exactly are you doing here?" Vivian sighed.

"Charles heard you call for help," Jean said, glancing over at her.

"I've wanted help for close to a century now and it's not like he bothered to try before, so what changed?" Vivian asked.

Jean frowned over at her, crouching down in front of her, "Can I see your wrist?"

Holding out her arm, Vivian bit her bottom lip as Jean gently removed the brace and ran her fingertips along the healing skin, "Charles sees a lot. More than most people do. He even has technology to help him see far, but he still can't see everything. He caught a glimpse of you at one point, but then he thought he felt you die. He thought it was too late. He didn't see you again until today."

"So what? Now I'm his guilt project? A way to ease his soul?"

"We want to help you. We can help you find a better way to live. We can help you prove that you were a victim in all of this. You and Barnes," Jean said.

"What do you get out of it? What do I have to do for you?" Vivian asked.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. No one ever does anything for free. Everyone always wants something," Vivian said, sounding more exhausted than angry.

Jean gently rewrapped Vivian's wrist as she explained, "About twenty years ago, I was in an accident, and...I lost control of myself. And not just a little bit. I was taken over. That entity didn't understand what it was doing either, but it made me hurt people. I hurt a lot of people. I did a lot of terrible things. Charles saved me. He helped me recover."

"You weren't at fault during that, and he already cared about you," Vivian insisted. "I wasn't brainwashed, and he doesn't know me. He doesn't care about me. Why would he give a single solitary fuck about my existence?"

Jean frowned, "I could tell you about how Charles feels it's his mission in life to help people, but I don't think you'd believe me, so how about a compromise?"

"I'm listening," Vivian said. "And not just because I'm somewhat of a captive audience."

"Come with me. Meet him. If you still think this is too good to be true, then you can walk right out. Or we'll drop you off anywhere you need to go. Or maybe you can stay with us for as long as you want. We can help you figure out a better way to live your life, a better way to use your powers. The only thing we'll ask of you is that you not hurt anyone else who lives or works at the school."

"If I stay, I can leave whenever I want?"

"I promise," Jean said, smiling softly. "Bare minimum, I can't just leave you here. If those Hydra agents found you, more will, and you lost too much blood to properly defend yourself."

Vivian sighed, leaning her head against the wall. Gripping the bag of evidence tightly, she finally sighed, "Okay. I'll come with you."

Accepting Jean's help to stand up, Vivian then partially leaned on her, refusing to give up her grasp on the bag. As they stumbled forward, Vivian winced as Nightcrawler wrapped his arms around both of them. Vivian paused, but then felt like she was going to hurl when one second they were on the street and then the next second they were on a plane. Stumbling over to a seat and sitting down, Vivian smiled weakly as Cyclops turned toward her from the pilot seat and nodded. As soon as the plane took off, Vivian was out.

She really hoped she was doing the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter will make up for how i definitely can't do a double upload for idk how long. My life is kind of in shambles right now.


	29. Twenty-Nine: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst. brief mentions of violence in other chapters.

_ People are gonna die, Buck. I can't let that happen_.

He shook his head as he scrubbed blood off his hands in the bank bathroom. He scrubbed them until the metal glinted in the light and skin was nearly rubbed raw. Drying them, he then grabbed the bag full of cash and supplies before he left. He'd stolen a car from the triskelion. He'd have to ditch it soon, but he needed to find a place to lay low and recover first.

_ Bucky_, _ you've known me your whole life. _

He shook his head again, pausing and rotating his arm carefully before he began driving. Popping his shoulder back into its socket had _ hurt_. In fact, everything seemed to hurt. Sleep would be the only respite from his suffering though. Clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them, he began driving. He needed a place to lay low, to get that rest, and he was pretty sure he knew a place that would be empty at least for a few days.

_ Your name is James Buchanan Barnes_.

Bucky stepped out of the car a few blocks away from the destination and took back alleys as he wrapped his arms around himself. Hopefully people would be too busy watching the news or checking on people who'd been in the building to bother noticing him. Once he reached the building, he didn't bother going through the front door. He went up the fire escape, and something about doing that felt like second nature. _ He'd done this before_. _ He'd gone to see someone like this before_. Brushing the thought aside, he climbed in through the recently fixed, but unlocked window.

_ You're my best friend and you're the man I love. _

Bucky's throat felt tight and his eyes warm as hot tears slipped down his cheeks. Heading further into the apartment, Bucky looked around. A comfortable couch. Shelves of books. A record player. One of the walls had pictures up. A brunet man, a blond man, and a blonde woman. A desperate sob rose up in his throat as he stared at the pictures of them.

_ Then finish it, because I'm with you 'till the end of the line. _

Bucky fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. Steve had been barely conscious even before he'd fallen. He'd not been breathing once he got pulled out. He'd just been limp in Bucky's arms, not moving, and then--Bucky froze as he remembered bright red blood across pale skin.

_ You're safe now. They can't use those to find you anymore. I promise. _

Vivian had gotten the bomb and the tracker out of him and then she'd gone after her own. Cut her own wrist open. There'd been so much blood, and he'd just _ left her there_. He'd left _ both of them there. _And now here he was, hiding out in Steve's apartment. He winced as he pulled off his uniform. The fabric was heavy, still a little bit waterlogged. He stripped down completely, folding his clothing and putting it into a neat pile. A vague memory of a brunette woman with warm eyes berating him for making a mess entered his mind for a moment but then it was gone. She was gone. He cranked the water of the shower to the hottest it would go and then stepped under the spray. The water beat against him and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back. Dirty river water, mud, and blood slid off of him and swirled down into the drain.

For a moment he just stood there before he remembered what each product in there was for. He hadn't quite been prepared for the effect that using those products would have on him though. As soon as the scent hit him, he nearly fell over. They smelled like _ home_. Security. So much so that once he was clean, he sank to the floor and just sat in the shower, enjoying the warmth until that scent faded. Once the water began to run cold, he lethargically reached up and turned off the water. Getting out, he then dried off and walked into the bedroom. He opened drawers and he pulled out clothing. The clothing was soft. Softer than his mind remembered them being. He got dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt before he lay down in the bed and under the covers.

It'd been _ years _ since he'd been in a bed, and the second his head hit the pillows, he fell asleep. His sleep was filled with dreams. Dreams of Steve and Vivian before the war. Dancing. Kissing. Cooking with them. And then Vivian's throat was slit. He could hear Steve insisting he had to crash a plane. He woke wild eyed and frantic. His heart was hammering and he stumbled out of the bed. Heading into the bathroom, he barely made it to the toilet before he dry heaved. There was nothing in his stomach to vomit.

Once the sensation stopped, Bucky went into the kitchen. The fridge had plenty of food in it, so did the cupboards. It'd been years since he'd been allowed to cook for himself and some of the ingredients he just didn't know. There was a list of ingredients attached to the fridge with a magnet. Some had check marks next to them and very few had x marks next to them. One ingredient (century eggs?) had been crossed out and next to it was just the word 'no'. He didn't know what those were at all.

He couldn't remember the last time he actually ate a real meal. A lot of the things just seemed like too much, too soon, and so he settled on relatively plain oatmeal and some buttered toast. After he ate, he cleaned up and then resumed searching the apartment. There were pictures of himself and of Viv around the apartment. On one of the tables near the front door there was a pamphlet.

Taking it, Bucky frowned as he saw that it was a _ Captain America exhibit_. Opening the pamphlet, his head began to hurt as it advertised the most comprehensive exhibit about _ Captain America and the Howling Commandos _ ever. Maybe this thing would have answers. Maybe they could tell him who he was.

Heading back into the bedroom, Bucky looked through the drawers and closet again. He had vague memories of doing this before, piecing together an outfit. He felt the echoes of pride in his mind. Whispers of how this had been important to him before. The clothing available to him wasn't the clothing from his memory, but he recognized everything. Jeans, a shirt, a jacket and gloves. He grabbed a hat before he left the apartment. He had cash from Hydra in his pocket, so he knew he could _ technically _ afford bus fare or a cab, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself entirely to do that.

And it was for the best. His mind kept going in and out of where he was. Sometimes he would see his actual surroundings and other times he'd picture some other place. Some other city. He had to force himself to stay _ on _ the sidewalk. He'd have to pinch his arm with his metal hand, jarring himself back to reality every time his mind wandered. The glove dampened the effect, but not entirely. Sometimes he wondered if he was going to a hospital. Not because he was sick, but because someone important was there. But they weren't sick either. Sometimes someone was there for some awful illness. Not for long. Sickness was handled at home.

Bucky shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. People avoided him on the street as he walked past them. Some looked at him oddly, some with other expressions, but they didn't stop him. He forced himself to take deep breaths, remembering a flash of Vivian pressing a hand against a pale small chest. The person was practically skin and bones. She'd breathe deeply and deliberately as he trembled, whisper for him to match her breathing. He remembered not fully breathing until both of them were calm.

He imagined just Vivian and then matched the breathing in his memory, smiling softly. The tension in his chest slowly lessened and he stopped clenching his hands. Shaking his head, Bucky focused, heading toward the Smithsonian. It was hard to miss the place. It was huge and the street going up to it had massive advertisements about the _ Captain America _ exhibit.

He paid an entrance fee as well as specifically for a ticket to the exhibit. Other people around him were excited for a lot of things the museum had to offer, but by and large they seemed to be going to see Captain America.

_ Let's hear it for Captain America! _

Bucky winced at that thought, a white hot spike of jealousy rushing through him and he didn't know why. Why would he be jealous? Bucky showed his ticket and walked into the exhibit, frowning as he saw a message from the president welcoming Captain America back. A twinge of pain went through him, but he paused as he saw photos of Steve. Steve before the serum. Sick Steve. Steve that had been denied enlistment. The sign listed Steve's ailments and he remembered what sickness smelled like.

"God, it sure is a good thing he got the serum. Wasn't really anything to write home about before," a woman near him said, laughing to her friend.

Bucky's hands clenched in his jacket, the tip of a retort on his tongue but he held it back. She was wrong. She was so wrong. Steve had _ always _ been gorgeous. He'd always been wonderful. He'd always been absolutely worth everything. Smart, strong, creative, honest, loyal, and just stubborn as a mule.

_ Oh, you’re from Paramus now? You know, it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey? _

Bucky shook his head and moved forward. His throat tightened as he saw the bit about Azzano. _ Azzano_. He could remember the Lord's prayer frantically whispered between bars. He could remember Vivian laying on the ground as her body seized. He could remember the drugs and the pain. He could hear the screams.

_ White, silver, blue, red, and black. _

Bucky shivered and kept moving. The Howling Commandos. His team. Steve's team. That's who they were. They'd done their best to raze Hydra to the ground. They'd been a family. Bucky turned and frowned as he saw his own face etched in glass. James Buchanan Barnes. He narrowed his eyes as the memorial said he _ enlisted_. He hadn't enlisted. He'd been drafted. He could see the draft notice in his mind. He could see it on the table. He could remember being terrified that Steve would be disappointed in him. But Steve wasn't.

_ Oldest of four _

Bucky's eyes widened at that. Sisters. He'd had sisters. _ Oh God, he'd had sisters_. He'd had _ parents_. He'd had people who'd loved him and cared about him. Becca, Lizzie, and Ida. Were they even still alive? He could feel icy wind on his skin, could feel the plummeting of his stomach. He'd fallen. Had they wondered why there wasn't anything left of him to bring back? Would they wish he'd died on that train when they found out what he was now?

He swallowed hard, moving forward and blinking back tears as he saw a smaller piece for Vivian. She was a nurse. That explained it. He remembered sunlight on golden curls. He remembered swinging her around a wooden floor, laughing and feeling so happy that his heart could burst. He could feel lips against his own, but no one was near him. Shaking his head, Bucky ducked into the gift shop and looked around. There were photos of Steve. Photos of Vivian. He stole a few of them. Even stole a notebook decorated with the Howling Commandos insignia on one side and Steve's shield on the other.

Leaving, Bucky hurried back to the apartment and headed in through the window again. There was a spare key in the house that he could use, but when he touched it, he remembered moving a brick and holding it out to a smaller Steve. He'd wanted to live with Steve and have Vivian come over. He wanted a little oasis away from the rest of the world where he could just _ be _ with both of them. A sanctuary where he didn't have to leave Steve behind. A place where they wouldn't get split up or _ hurt_. And now here he was, hiding out in Steve's apartment after he _ hurt him_. Maybe before the world was the one trying to split them up, but now it was just him. He'd abandoned them.

Bucky forced himself to take deep breaths, but tears still burned in his eyes. He shook his head and then gathered up his gear. Bundling it up, he hid it under Steve's bed. He didn't want it anymore, but it wasn't exactly stuff he could just toss out onto the street. It wouldn't be safe for anyone. Once Steve got back from the hospital, he'd know what to do with it. He would make sure no one got hurt...again.

Bucky headed back into the living room and glanced at everything. He didn't understand why there wasn't art supplies somewhere in the apartment. Why wouldn't Steve have a designated spot for his passion? A place to draw and paint and just _ create_? The sound of laughter had Bucky heading out the window and crouching down, watching carefully as two men strolled into the apartment. Bucky didn't recognize the white man, but he did recognize the black man. The black man had been the one who'd flown. He'd had _ wings_. A surge of guilt filled him as he remembered pulling one of the wings off and kicking him off the helicarrier.

"Man, how are you not dead?"

"Easy, Sam," the white guy grinned, but then nearly tripped over his own feet. Sam sighed and stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head. Bucky recognized that expression as one his own mother had done near constantly when he'd irk her in some way. He remembered the first time he'd asked her what she was doing.

_ James Buchanan Barnes, I am asking the good lord for patience with your foolishness_.

"I am actually graceful," the man said with a grin, turning around. Bucky thought he saw a glimpse of a hearing aid in his ears.

"Yeah, yeah, Clint. No one believes it," Sam grinned. "And I definitely don't believe that 'raised by the circus' bullshit either. That's the kind of nonsense white folks tell to their kids to get them to behave. Bullshit like 'do this or we'll ship you off to the circus."

"It's the circus, not goddamn Krampus, Sam," Clint laughed. "No one's fucking threatening to ship their kids off to the _ circus_. I _ was _ in the circus. So was my brother."

Sam shook his head, "Fine. Sure. Whatever. Anyway, you're the one who's been in Steve's apartment before, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I can grab the bag and some clothes for him," Clint said, waving his hand. Sam grinned and went to sit on the couch. Before he could though, Clint paused and then grinned, "Oh, and just so you know, last time I was in this apartment, I fucked Steve on that couch."

Sam immediately twisted away from the couch, nearly falling all over himself. Clint burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the apartment as Sam flipped him off. Bucky felt a mixture of emotions. On one hand, he was glad Steve hadn't been alone, but on the other, _ he should have been the one to be with Steve_. It should have been him.

Sam was glancing around the apartment warily, running a hand over his face before he asked, "Is there anywhere in this apartment you two _ didn't _ fuck?"

"We used the kitchen table, but not the chairs," Clint said with a grin before headed down the hallway.

Sam shook his head and grabbed a kitchen chair, sitting down on it while shaking his head. After several minutes, Clint strolled out with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Sam looked up at him before he said, "Didn't think Steve had it in him."

Clint laughed, "Most people don't. They underestimate him. My gain. It was a fun fling, but that's over now."

Sam sighed, "History classes definitely didn't mention any of this."

Clint dropped the bag next to him and leaned back on the chair, balancing it precariously on two legs, "Yeah. History classes prefer the '_neater_' history where they pretend he was a straight guy. Not true at all, but..." Clint shrugged.

Sam shook his head, "It's stupid, is what it is. So how come you two aren't gonna be a thing?"

Bucky's hand clenched and part of him told himself to just leave. He'd listened into this conversation far too much. It wasn't his business. These two men didn't even know he was there, but he just stayed and stared. Clint's blue eyes twinkled. He adjusted his hearing aid on his ear, seeming lost in thought before he answered the question.

"We always knew it was going to be, well, just helping each other out really. We're friends. We gave each other what we _ needed _ at the time."

"And now?"

"And now both Barnes and Peshkova are alive. Second he's on his feet, he'll be looking for them."

Sam sighed and nodded to the bag, "You get everything?"

Clint nodded and held up the bag, "Yeah. I grabbed some clothes. Nat told me _ not _ to bring the laptop just yet otherwise we'll never get him to actually rest."

"Ain't that the damn truth."

Clint smirked and as the two left the place, he asked, "So, do you want to hear about how good of a fuck he is?"

"_Jesus Christ, _no, Clint. It's none of my fucking business and--"

The conversation drifted off as they headed down the hallway and Bucky climbed back into the apartment. If Steve's friends were taking clothing to him then that meant Steve was going to be heading home any day now. Shaking his head, Bucky headed over to the closet and opened it up. There was a backpack and another gym bag. He shoving the things he'd stolen into the backpack along with all the money he had. Toiletries got put in there as well. Things he'd need in a hurry, things he wouldn't want to leave behind under any circumstance, got put into the backpack. Extra clothing, and just things he wanted, but could live without got put into the gym bag. He felt bad about taking so many outfits, but it seemed like Steve had dozens he wasn't using. His feet were slightly bigger than Steve's, which meant he couldn't take any of Steve's shoes. If he wanted different pairs, he'd have to either steal them or buy them from a shop.

He really wasn't looking forward to either of those options.

Putting a cap on his head and pulling it low, Bucky then pulled his backpack onto his back. The weight seemed fine. He took the gym bag and looked around the apartment one last time. Blinking back tears, he forced himself to take deep breaths before he whispered, "I'm sorry, Steve." 

He left the apartment and just started walking. A small voice in his mind and in his heart begged him to just go back, to just wait in that apartment. Steve would help. Steve wanted to help. Memories of bruised skin, whispered words, and the shattering of glass had him shaking his head. No, it wasn't safe. Not yet. But Bucky would figure it out. He'd make sure it was safe. And then he'd be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's coming back!
> 
> I don't know of any canon that explicitly states where Bucky got that clothing he's wearing in the end credit scene, but I'm a slut for couples sharing clothing. Also, I just really like this idea.
> 
> Also, yes, Clint/Steve had a lot more sex offscreen than they did within the chapters. The story isn't that pairing though and also it would have slowed down the story tremendously to have like, 10 more chapters where it's just sex scenes in different parts of the apartment. Basically once they started hooking up, the only times they weren't hooking up were if they were on a mission, working out, or if Clint was with Natasha.


	30. Thirty: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst and discussions of morality. Also some self-hatred.

It'd been years since Vivian had woken up in a real bed, and for a moment as she lay there, she didn't want to get up. The mattress was soft, but firm. The sheets, blankets, and pillow were soft and clean. It honestly all felt like a dream. After several minutes of just laying there though, she remembered that she did actually need to get up and find out what all the X-Men wanted from her. Sitting up, Vivian sighed. She'd been changed into loose, clean clothing. Lounge pants and a t-shirt.

Getting out of bed, Vivian checked her arm, unsurprised that it was completely healed. She was surprised that she wasn't tremendously hungry though, which meant that they'd probably put her on an IV drip of some kind during her recovery. Slipping her feet into some flats left by the bed, she headed out of the room and found herself in a hallway. She passed a few people on the way to the staircase, the ages ranging wildly from elementary school to college age.

It seemed like Charles really was ready to take just any and all mutants who needed help, regardless of age. Most of the people whispered about her, but didn't approach. That was smart. Continuing forward, Vivian paused as a woman with dark brown hair streaked with white ran up and grinned, "Hey, sorry about that. I thought I would have a bit more time before you woke up. My name's Rogue."

"Your parents named you Rogue?" Vivian asked curiously.

Rogue laughed, "Okay, so it's my nickname, not my real name. Haven't really gone by my birth name in a while though. It's not uncommon for students and faculty to go by their mutant name, but not everyone does."

"Fair. I'm surprised I woke up in a room though. Figured I'd wake up in a secret lab or something," Vivian admitted.

Rogue paused, "Why would we do that? You needed rest and the lab's great, don't get me wrong, Hank did a great job on it, but it's not exactly comfortable."

"My comfort isn't exactly something that's been considered in a very long time."

Rogue frowned, "Sorry. We're not like that though. The professor's definitely not like that. He'd never do that to any of us. Obviously you don't know him yet, but I promise you he's a good man. Although to be fair, I had a hard time believing it when I first came here too."

Vivian nodded and asked, "So is that where we're headed now?"

"Yep. Jean, Scott, Hank and Logan will all be there. Logan is going to seem kind of rude, but I promise he's a sweetheart."

"Logan?" Vivian asked curiously. "Are you talking about Wolverine? Since when is here with you guys? I thought he was still on the run from the government."

"He hasn't been on the run from the government in years. Hell, that man's a professor here," Rogue said with a grin.

"Really? He didn't really strike me as the type last time I saw him," Vivian confessed. She then paused, "Then again, last time I saw him, he'd been pumped full of liquid metal and lost his mind."

Vivian kept walking, but then sighed when Rogue stopped and stared at her, "Why were you there?"

Glancing back at her, Vivian wasn't surprised at the mild iciness that Rogue's voice had taken. Running her fingers through her hair, Vivian leaned against the wall and said, "Didn't really have much of a choice. Powers that be inside Hydra decided they wanted me to see the procedure done to him. Also thanks to Logan being out of control afterward, they decided to not give it to me."

"You're not telling me everything," Rogue said cautiously.

"Did Hank do any blood work when he had me in his lab?" Vivian asked.

"Yeah. That and some x-rays just to make sure you didn't have any damaged bones. IV drip to keep you hydrated. Stuff like that," Rogue said, leaning against the wall next to her.

"Then it shouldn't be too much trouble for him to run a paternity test," Vivian said with a forced smile.

"_Wait, you're Logan's_\--"

"That's the line I got told anyway," Vivian shrugged. "It's what's in my file. No idea if it's true. Wasn't really a way for me to check that."

"Oh my god," Rogue whispered. "I can't wait to tell Remy. He's going to lose his mind."

"Remy?" Vivian asked, smiling as Rogue started walking again.

A blush spread across Rogue's cheeks and she admitted, "Remy LeBeau. Goes by Gambit to most people. Got kinetic abilities. He's my boyfriend. You'll probably meet him later. He does a lot of the cooking around here when it comes to big meals. He makes _ vats _ of gumbo. When he's in that kind of zone, none of us are allowed into that room. He says we just get in the way."

"Interesting."

They headed down a staircase, and Vivian smiled as Rogue rolled her eyes and called over to a man making out with another man in the corner, "Bobby, go get a room. You're in a goddamn school."

Bobby stopped what he was doing and called back, "Jean and Scott are way worse!"

"They are not, you liar," Rogue retorted before leaning close to Vivian and explaining, "That's Bobby Drake. People around here call him 'Iceman'. No points for guessing what his powers are. He came out as gay as soon as he came here after living with some uh, less than progressive parents. I guess he decided since he had to hide for so long that he'd be wildly public about a lot of things now. Not enough to be like, lewd, but he does tend to make out in hallways with his boyfriend. His boyfriend is Roberto da Costa. Nickname is Sunspot. He can absorb solar energy and turn it into fire. And yes, they absolutely know about their whole fire and ice thing. They make sure no one forgets it."

Vivian chuckled at that, shaking her head as they continued forward. They had to pause as a bell rang and everyone that was in the hallway rushed to class, leaving the place empty. Once the doors all shut, there wasn't really anyone to point out anymore. They reached a heavy wooden door and before either of them could knock, it opened.

Professor Xavier sat behind his desk. He was an older man, bald, and had kind eyes. On either side of him stood Jean and Scott. Scott had taken off his visor and replaced them with special sunglasses. A large man covered in blue fur stood off to the side, glasses perched on his nose, and Vivian knew that was Hank McCoy. She also recognized Logan as he stood next to a window, slouched and looking bitter. He had a cigar in his fingers and the window was cracked to let the smoke out.

"Please, sit," Charles said, motioning to a chair in front of the desk.

Vivian did as she was asked, glancing between everyone before she said, "Thank you for helping me out at the bank. I really hate healing from gunshot wounds, so I appreciate it. If you guys changed your mind about letting me stay, I also definitely understand that."

"Why would we have changed our minds?" Charles asked, looking confused.

"Well, you're a telepath," Vivian said. "I'm assuming you read my mind. Or hell, even just read the documents I brought with me."

Charles sighed, "We did read the documents. Your mind, however, is your own. No telepath here will enter the mind of someone unless there is no other choice or they have permission to do so."

Vivian frowned, surprised by that, "But you read the documents. You know what I am."

"What you are is a prisoner of war," he insisted. "The longest running prisoner of war in history."

Vivian shook her head, "That would be Bucky, not me."

"So you're saying you weren't captured in 1943 while in service to the US Army corps of nursing?"

"I mean, yeah, I was, but--"

"And you're saying you weren't subsequently tortured for years before being forced into servitude to keep the man you love safe?"

"I killed people. I killed a lot of people. Why I did it won't matter to people in charge. The only thing that's going to matter is the information I can trade. I just want Bucky to be safe. I want him to be free."

"And what about you?"

"_Who gives a shit_?" Vivian laughed. "It doesn't fucking matter. Lock me up. Execute me over and over again. Bury me alive. I don't fucking care as long as he's okay. I have walked through Hell for him, and I'll do it again."

"And what about Steve Rogers?"

Vivian blinked back tears, "He's safe. I'll go to him eventually. I'll explain what I did, what I have to do now. And I don't know. I love him. I love Bucky. I love both of them so much, but what I want doesn't matter."

"Vivian, I told you that we wanted to help you find a better way to live. That was the truth. So honestly, truly: what do you want to do with your life?"

Vivian frowned, staring at the ground before admitting, "I want to stop hurting people all the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm still willing to hurt people to protect others, but...right now most of the things I know how to do with myself and my powers are lethal. I know a couple of tricks that aren't, but they're not as powerful, not as reliable. Hell, half the time I don't remember to use my powers at all to diffuse a situation. I spent so long being a weapon."

"I can help you with that," Jean promised. "We can all help you with that."

"We'd even consider letting you join the X-Men on a _ temporary _ basis," Scott added.

Vivian arched an eyebrow at Jean, "What happened to you don't want anything from me?"

Jean sent a stare over at Scott before she said, "That's still true. Scott isn't saying that you'd be recruited to the group. He's saying that if you did want to join, we'd welcome your help. We also wouldn't have you be someone who attacks anyone. Hydra took a number of mutants and also just the loved ones of regular humans. We're looking to rescue them in the coming months, whoever we can find. You'd obviously need some training on how to non-lethally use your powers before then."

Logan snorted, "Not really the group to be using kid gloves on, Jean."

"Logan," Jean warned.

"What? Kid was doing the right thing before, killing them."

"That's enough, Logan," Charles said firmly.

Logan went quiet, taking a long drag of his cigar before releasing the smoke into the room. Vivian sighed and interrupted before Logan could speak again, "I don't regret killing members of Hydra. I don't regret killing Nazis. I don't feel bad that I did. I feel bad that I killed other people, and I feel worse that it seems like my legacy will be death. I'm not stopping killing because I don't think there are people out there that deserve to die, but rather that I think I deserve a shot at having more than blunt force as my only option. I want to see if that girl back before, and during, the war was a fluke or not. I wanna see if that healer is still in me somewhere or if that girl died when Hydra slit my throat."

"Is this about Steve Rogers?" Scott asked.

Vivian shook her head, "No. I know that man better than almost anyone on this planet does. I know that if I showed up today that he would take me back, no questions asked. I won't lie to you. I love him. I'm in love with him. That still doesn't mean that this is about him though. This is about proving something to _ myself_. Even if he was actually dead, I'd still be wanting to do this."

Charles nodded and then said, "You are free to stay here for as long as you would like. We would ask that you seek out Dr. McCoy for any medical issues you are having. He can prevent your healing process from being unnecessarily uncomfortable or painful. I am not strictly one of your teachers, but if you ever need or want my guidance, my door is always open. Jean, Rogue, and Logan have all volunteered to be your teachers."

Vivian glanced over at Logan in surprise. It wasn't like she expected him to rally for her to be kicked out, but she hadn't exactly expected him to volunteer to be one of her teachers either. Before she could ask him about any of it though, Logan pushed away from the window and walked across the room.

"Logan," Rogue whispered, frowning. She was standing in front of the door. Logan's shoulders were tense. Vivian couldn't see what his expression was like, but Rogue rolled her eyes and moved to the side, letting him pass.

As the door shut, Vivian sighed and then said, "I guess he knows who I am then."

"He's just...getting used to the information is all," Jean insisted while Scott rolled his eyes. Jean sent him a quick glare before explaining, "He only found out about you when the files were read. Before, he had no idea what your mother..."

"Can a complete waste of space _ be _ a mother?" Vivian interrupted, tilting her head.

Jean sighed, "He had no idea what _ that woman _ had done. He didn't say it, but I think he feels responsible for what happened to you."

"It wasn't his fault. He couldn't have known what she was planning. As far as I know, not a single one of his powers has ever been telepathy, and I know for a fact _ Madame Hydra _ wasn't exactly forthright when she seduced him," Vivian said.

Scott looked like he didn't believe her, and Vivian smiled, "Your obvious problems with Logan aside, I am serious that he doesn't have a reason to feel guilty. I've known about him far longer than he knew about me. And even then, I didn't know if it was a trick or not. Did you guys do the bloodwork to confirm?"

Hank cleared his throat, "Yes. As soon as we located that piece of information, bloodwork was run. You are his daughter."

"Good to know," Vivian said. "Before now, I hadn't actually been sure if it'd been the truth or just a story I was told to distract me. She didn't typically give me straightforward answers. She didn't think she owed that to a glorified petri dish."

Charles glanced at everyone else and the room cleared out. Vivian sighed and then shook her head when Charles asked, "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be? He really doesn't owe me anything. Besides, you've read my files. I've been through much worse."

"Going through worse doesn't make something else good," Charles pointed out kindly.

Vivian shrugged and sat back down, "I stopped having fantasies about having normal or loving parents back when I was a teenager. I gave up entirely on the idea in my twenties. The only parental figure I've had in my life was Madame Hydra, and I killed her."

"What about Sarah Rogers? Winnifred Barnes?"

Vivian frowned, "Sarah Rogers was an amazing woman. So was Winnifred Barnes. They were both amazing women. Amazing mothers. Amazing people. I couldn't keep Sarah healthy and once she got sick, I couldn't save her. Steve didn't blame me, and neither did Sarah, but I blamed myself. She died when we were teenagers. Winnifred loved me. She wanted Bucky to marry me so badly. Would have dragged us to the church if she'd had her way. She died not knowing how much I'd fucked up their lives. Her daughters are still alive though, so maybe one day I can apologize to them. Tried apologizing to Bucky, but he's a stubborn man and insisted I didn't owe him one."

"Sounds like you did the best you could with the circumstances you were in," Charles said.

Vivian picked at her nails and then asked, "Is Steve okay?"

"Captain Rogers was rushed to the hospital yesterday afternoon. Several surgeries were performed on him. The diagnosis is that he'll need rest, but will otherwise have a complete recovery."

"Can you...can you tell if Bucky's okay?"

"At this moment, we are currently unaware of Sergeant Barnes' whereabouts. I could check on him with Cerebro, but in order to ascertain anything other than the fact that he's alive, it would require me to look into his mind without his consent."

Vivian winced, "Yeah, don't do that. Everyone should be able to choose whether or not someone messes with their mind, but Bucky more than anyone else is owed that. He's already been through too much."

"I understand," Charles said with a nod. He then moved around the desk, his hands folded neatly onto his lap as the wheelchair seemed to propel itself forward. She eyed him curiously as he reached out and took one of her hands. "Vivian, what I want for you is for you to be able to see that the words you applied to Barnes apply to you as well."

Vivian began to disagree with him, to tell him he was wrong, but then she cleared her throat and closed her mouth instead, picturing Bucky's desperate pleading to her. He loved her so much. Staring at the floor, she whispered, "Bucky believes in me, and I think Steve does, but I don't know. It's hard to believe it. For the longest time, it was so hard to even just keep going."

"Just because someone stumbles and loses their way, it doesn’t mean they’re lost forever. Sometimes we all need a little help."

"But I need _ a lot of help_," Vivian said, blinking back tears.

"Then that's what we'll give you," Charles said, smiling softly as he squeezed her hands.

"Thank you," Vivian said, although she was pretty sure the words didn't even begin to cover how she felt. It was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot last week to point out that Bucky chapter pretty much coincided with Bucky's 103rd birthday. Well, in real life, not in the fiction. It's obviously not 2020 in the story.
> 
> I'm very excited to have Vivian be with the X-men for a bit. They're going to be really helpful to her. Plus, I couldn't not put the X-Men in. X-Men were my first love when it comes to marvel characters.I loved the cartoon growing up, and then I loved (most of) the original trilogy of movies.
> 
> Oh and I know in the trilogy of movies, Bobby Drake aka Iceman dated both Rogue and Kitty Pryde aka Shadowcat, but in one of the comics, Iceman came out as gay. That's not to say that people that are gay can't date members of the opposite sex before coming out. I could have easily just still had Rogue/Bobby and Kitty/Bobby still be a thing in his past. I just really also love Rogue/Gambit so I knew I was altering the timeline anyway. Plus I got a really cute idea about Iceman/Sunspot. There were some people who got really mad at the comics having Bobby come out as gay and I want you all to know, from the bottom of my heart, that I absolutely refuse to make Bobby be straight.


	31. Thirty-One: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst, graphic descriptions of torture, and a panic attack
> 
> If you don't want to read graphic medical torture, then here are your cues.  
Sentence that's right before the start is:  
Steve shook his head, "No, but Sam, this was happening when I could have still helped her. I need to know what happened."
> 
> Here's the sentence that signifies that ending is:  
He could _smell_ that room.
> 
> However, that is the start of a panic attack description, so if you want to skip that as well, you need to skip all the way to:  
Steve slowly opened his eyes and stared into Sam's.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing? And don't pull any of that 'on your left' shit again either."

Steve paused as he was halfway out of his hospital bed and glanced up at Sam. Giving a weak smile, he then cleared his throat and said, "I was just stretching. Doctor said it'd be good for me."

"Oh really? Doc told you to put on an entire outfit and pack a bag so you could stretch?" Sam looked deeply unimpressed. Steve winced when Sam then burst into laughter and said, "Man, Natasha was right. You really are a terrible liar. I got nephews in elementary school that got better game than that."

Steve dropped his bag on the floor. Frowning, he said, "I've already been here for too long. I need to get back out there and pick up the trail."

"Natasha's looking for information. There's nothing we can do until she finds what she's looking for," Sam said, moving over and gently pushing on Steve's shoulder.

Steve sighed and sat down on the bed, running his hand over his face before he said, "Tell me again what she said."

Sam pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. He didn't even need to ask which 'she' Steve was referring to as he answered the question, probably for the hundredth time since Steve had woken up. "She said she wants you to focus on Bucky, and that she's not gone forever, but she needs time. When we asked what that meant, she said she didn't know. She might be going on a tour of retribution, and she might not be. She said Bucky is more important than her."

"They're both important! They're both equally important!" Steve snapped.

"Hey, man, I know," Sam said, holding up his hands. "You asked what she said, so I'm just repeating it to you. _ Again _."

Steve's shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard, "I know, and I'm sorry, Sam. It's just...I really screwed up if she thinks for a second she's not as important to me as Bucky is. _ I love her_. I love her so much."

Sam groaned, leaning back in his chair. He stared up at the ceiling as he complained, "Man, no one prepared me for mopey Captain America. Worse than those goddamn Sarah McLachlan ASPCA commercials."

"The what?"

"Ignore that. That doesn't need to go on your list, although I wouldn't be surprised if Barton played it for you anyway," Sam said, and then glanced at Steve, "Seriously though, what were you planning on doing before I showed up?"

"You know I was planning on leaving. Even if I couldn't start looking for them right away, I didn't want to still be in a hospital. The worst of my recovery is over. I don't have to be in a hospital to finish it. I just want to get out of here."

"You got stabbed, shot multiple times, and you drowned," Sam pointed out.

Steve smiled softly, "Vivian saved me. Performed CPR and put pressure on my wounds."

"She did. Stayed with you until we came to get you. Made us promise to protect you. Said there'd be hell to pay if we didn't."

Steve smiled wider. He could hear her saying that. Could picture the way her brow would furrow and she'd narrow her eyes at him. It would look like a glare, but there'd be no real heat to it. He remembered how easily her expression would turn to a smile and exasperation. She'd laugh and kiss him. She'd say she didn't know how she put up with him, and Steve never really knew how or why she did put up with him either.

"You really aren't going to stay put for the rest of the day here, are you?" Sam asked, somehow sounding even more exasperated than he looked.

Steve shook his head and Sam sighed, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling as if looking for the answers there. Or maybe he was praying. Steve wasn't entirely sure. After several minutes of silence, Sam then said, "Okay, I'll help you get out of here, but you can't go off doing any Captain America shit for at least another goddamn week. Got it?"

"Deal," Steve nodded and stood up, taking deep breaths before he moved. He was sore, but he was able to move. Unfortunately, he had to sign several documents before he could be discharged. Once he was, he accepted medication (not that most of it would be tremendously helpful) and headed outside. Sam kept a worried eye on him the entire time, but Steve smiled as he spotted a car waiting with Clint leaning against it, eating from a bucket of chicken.

"Clint? What are you doing here?"

"Sam and I figured you were gonna try to bust out of here, so I offered to drive. Oh, and I just got a call from Natasha. We're supposed to meet by Fury's headstone."

"By his headstone?" Sam asked. "Also, man, why are you just standing there eating fried chicken like that?"

"I got hungry," Clint shrugged, popping another piece of chicken into his mouth. Holding out the bucket, he asked, "Popcorn chicken?"

"No, thanks, and hand over the keys," Steve said, holding out his hand.

"Aw, c'mon, Steve, I'm a good driver."

"You're actually not, and also, you don't have a license," Steve reminded him.

"_What_?" Sam shouted.

"I know how to drive, and really, isn't that all that matters?" Clint asked with a sigh.

"No," Steve and Sam both said.

"Fine," Clint said with a pout before he tossed the keys over to Sam.

Sam caught them and shook his head, climbing into the driver's seat. Steve got into the passenger seat and Clint got in the back, sitting sideways with his feet on the other seats, and still eating fried chicken.

Sam sent him a stare, as if asking what was going on, but Steve just shrugged. He'd stopped asking what Clint's deal was basically as soon as they'd become friends. The man was bizarre, but incredibly loyal and trustworthy, so his oddities didn't really matter. Glancing into the backseat, Steve smiled softly as Clint looked back at him and winked. Shaking his head and looking forward again, Steve looked out the window of the car, just grateful to be out of the hospital. Being out meant he was one step closer to being completely healed. One step closer to finding the people he loved.

"Okay, I can take us to the headstone. I know the way," Clint insisted, leaning between the seats.

"You're leaving the chicken in the car," Sam insisted.

Clint frowned, "Why? I'm almost finished."

"Seriously?" Sam gaped.

Steve rolled his eyes, "Clint, just leave what's left in the car."

Clint grumbled, but set the bucket in the floor of the backseat and then got out. Steve could hear Sam muttering to himself. Getting out of the car, Steve followed Clint up a few paths to headstones near a large tree. American flags were stuck in the ground and there was a large bouquet of white roses.

_ Col. Nicholas J. Fury  
_"The path of the righteous man..."  
_ Ezekiel 25:17_

"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before," Fury said, coming up alongside them. Truthfully, if Steve just saw him on the street, he wouldn't immediately guess that the man in sunglasses, beanie, hoodie, and leather jacket was the former head of a massive intelligence agency. He just looked like a random civilian. Maybe an actor hiding from paparazzi or something.

"You get used to it," Steve joked.

"We've been data mining Hydra's files," Fury said, ignoring the joke. "Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship."

Steve nodded, his hands tightening into fists at his side. He wanted to take Hydra down, but he didn't want to just _ not _ look for Buck or Viv. He didn't want to make the same mistake he'd made before.

"I'm headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you'd come."

"There's something I got to do first," Steve admitted.

"How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your abilities," Fury said, turning toward Sam.

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam insisted.

Fury glanced over at Clint before he asked, "Your answer still no?"

Clint grinned, coming up and resting his arm against Steve's shoulder, leaning onto him before he grinned, "Nah. Europe's fun, but I already volunteered for Cap's thing. And I never got to work with my fellow birdman."

"Don't call me that," Sam muttered, glaring, signing it as well for good measure.

"All right then," Fury said, holding out his hand. He shook each of their hands one by one. Once he reached Steve, he said, "Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here."

Steve nodded. As Fury walked away, he heard Natasha announce, "You should be honored. That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you."

"Not going with him?" Steve asked, a soft smile on his face as he met Natasha halfway.

"No," Natasha said with a grin.

"Not staying here," Steve then added.

"Actually, I am," Natasha said. "I blew all my covers. I got to figure out a new one, but I don't know. I want to see if I can figure it out here first. I'll probably lay low for a bit though."

"You're staying for Clint," Steve said quietly, glancing over at Clint who was hanging back to quietly say something to Sam. Whatever he was saying was making Sam shake his head and stare up at the sky. The two barely knew each other and already acted more like brothers than strangers.

Natasha nodded, "He's always been there for me. Never asked me to do anything I didn't want to do. He's not going to ask me to stay, even though that's what he wants. I could disappear tonight and not speak to him for years and he'd still come running if I called for backup. I can't help with your project just yet though, not more than this. I need time to think."

Steve shook his head, "I'm grateful for your help, Nat, I really am, but you got to take care of yourself first. I get that."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "I doubt it since I don't think you have _ ever _ done that, but I appreciate the sentiment." She then held out two thick files, and said, "That thing you asked for. I called in a few favors from Kiev."

Steve took a deep breath as he stared down at the files. There was a mix of Russian and English on the folders. He glanced up as Natasha asked, "Will you do me a favor? Take a break. Take care of yourself."

"I do take care of myself," Steve insisted.

"_Actually _ take care of yourself," Natasha insisted She then leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She then began walking away, pausing as she left. "Be careful, Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread."

Clint jogged past him, and Steve opened up the first file. The picture was of Bucky, his eyes closed. He was in a frozen cryo tank. Attached was a picture of him from just before he shipped out in the war. Steve blinked back tears and then opened up the other file. The other had a picture of Vivian. Steve's hands shook as he saw that it was a picture of her laying on a table, pale as a corpse. The picture attached to hers was a photo of her from the war. Her hair was curled and she was in her nursing uniform, the barest hint of a smile on her face.

"You sure you want to do this?" Sam said, coming over and peering over Steve's shoulder.

"You don't have to come with me," Steve said.

Sam stared at him for a moment, but then Steve winced as Sam asked, "Man, you've gotta stop doing that shit."

"Doing what?"

"Giving people an out instead of just asking them what they wanna do. No one likes it when someone just assumes they're not gonna do something."

Steve nodded, "You're right. I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam smiled, "It's all right. Now c'mon, I know you're dying to look through those files."

"They're gonna suck. You sure you wanna read 'em?" Clint asked, returning.

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I need to know."

The trip back to the apartment was quiet and Steve spent most of it staring at the picture of Vivian in the file. When he wasn't looking at a photo of her, he sometimes wondered if his memories had exaggerated just how beautiful she was. People had a tendency to misremember things, to color them with emotion instead of reality. And then he'd look at a picture of her and realize that his memories, if anything, weren't bright enough. Words weren't enough to describe her, not really. It was an attempt, but it wasn't quite enough.

He flipped through the files as Sam drove, nervously glancing over at him. Steve saw that Natasha had translated the Russian for him, attached pages of translation. The file itself had flash drives attached to certain sections. The flash drives were labeled with dates. Vivian's went back long before he'd lost her. Bucky's went back to Azzano.

They'd barely parked the car before Steve was out and heading into his place. He closed his door behind him, but left it unlocked as he went straight into his living room. Turning on the TV, he plugged one of the flash drives into the side of it. The drive he'd plugged in was from after Azzano and there was Vivian strapped to an exam table. Her arms were stretched out to either side of her. Her expression looked almost vacant and there was sweat on her brow.

"Shit, are you sure you want to watch this?" Sam asked, coming up behind him.

Steve shook his head, "No, but Sam, this was happening when I could have still helped her. I need to know what happened."

Clint hopped over the couch and sat next to him, taking his hand in his. Steve squeezed Clint's hand, but then wished he wasn't seeing the footage as a man in a doctor's coat walked over to Vivian's bedside. Vivian coughed and Steve winced as blood dripped out of her mouth. She was sick. Very sick. He couldn't understand what the doctor said, but Vivian _ laughed_. Her head tilted back and her body shook before she devolved into a coughing fit. More and more blood came out.

The doctor sneered, and then he pulled out a bone saw. Vivian didn't look away. She stared at him. She stared down this monster while restrained and unable to do anything, already sick from some illness. She was going through that and the only words that came from her were, "_Fuck you_."

And then the doctor began sawing off her arm and she _ screamed _. Blood splattered and Steve could hear Sam curse before he left the room entirely as the footage continued to play. Clint frantically turned off his hearing aid and left the room as the sound of the saw crunching through bone began. The sound set Steve's teeth on edge. His own arm felt like it hurt. Slowly Vivian stopped screaming, and that was worse. Her laying there, scarcely breathing, wide eyes staring up at the ceiling as that saw carved through flesh was so much worse than the screaming. Every once and a while a sound like a death rattle escaped from her. The arm was pulled away from her and tossed aside.

Blood was just _ everywhere_. And then people brought in other tools. Tools he'd never seen before and they attached it to the stump and just _ watched her heal_. Some laughed. He fast forwarded the footage, watching in horror as the arm did grow back. But then once it was back, they removed it again. And again. And again. And slowly that room turned into the room he'd seen. That bloody room. That torture chamber.

He could _ smell _ that room. He could smell the drying blood and the rotting flesh. He could smell the sickness and the death. He could hear the sounds of his boots on that floor. His stomach lurched and he closed his eyes. His breathing increased and suddenly hands were pressed against his cheeks and he heard Sam's voice whisper, "Hey, Steve, focus on my voice. Focus and breathe with me, all right?"

It was a struggle, but Steve did as he was asked, forcing himself to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, matching Sam's breathing. It took several minutes to stop his hyperventilating. For a moment he'd thought it was impossible, but then it slowed. He could hear Sam sigh in relief before he whispered, "Okay, good. Good job. Now can you open your eyes?"

Steve slowly opened his eyes and stared into Sam's. Sam looked concerned, _ very concerned_. Steve glanced over at the TV and saw that it had been turned off entirely at some point. Shaking his head, he whispered, "I need to see."

"No, you don't, man," Sam said. "This isn't healthy. It's not right. It's just punishing yourself. Would Viv want you to do that?"

Steve pulled away from Sam and shook his head. He looked around for the remote to the TV only for Sam to grab him again, "Barton hid the remote and that son of a bitch is sneaky. You're not going to find it, Steve." Steve glared over at Clint who just shrugged. "Don't fucking glare at him, and answer the question. Would Vivian want you to punish yourself?"

"Only reason we're even talking about what Vivian wants is because she _ happens _ to be a mutant. Otherwise, if it was just down to me, there'd be nothing left of her. Just footage of her being goddamn murdered while I was on stage, dancing around in tights," Steve snarled.

He stormed toward the TV to turn it back on, but Sam grabbed his arm and squeezed it, tugging him away from it as he said, "Look at me, Steve. _ Look at me_."

Steve glanced over at Sam, eyes bleary with tears as Sam asked, "Do you think Riley's death is my fault?"

"What?" Steve whispered.

"Do you think Riley's death is on me?"

"No."

"Really? I was up in the air with him. I could see him. I could hear him. Do you think I just didn't try hard enough to save him?" Steve shook his head, and Sam glared, "Then why the fuck is it on you for shit that happened hundreds of miles away from you? What about Barnes? Is Vivian's torture on him?"

"**_No!_**" Steve shouted.

"Steve, what happened to Vivian wasn't your fault. Neither was what happened to Bucky. If you want to help them, I'll help you do that. If you're wanting to create your own personal circle of Hell where you just punish yourself for things that weren't your fault and that can't be changed, then I'm not going to help you do that. Clint's not going to either."

Steve sat down heavily on the floor and stared at Vivian's file for a moment. Tears slipped down his cheeks and he confessed, "_I love Vivian so much_. I love _ both _ her and Buck so goddamn much, and they both _ always _ took care of me. They _ always _ protected me. They always _ saved me_. It's just not fair. Even now, Vivian doesn't see herself as a priority, thinks Bucky's more important, and neither of them are more important than the other. They're both so goddamn important. They're the sun and moon in my sky. I can't live without either of them, and the fact that she doesn't know that means I fucked up. So yeah, maybe I am punishing myself. I failed my goddamn soulmates. If you'd found yours and you fucked up this badly, wouldn't you?"

Sam sat down next to him on the floor and admitted, "For most people, I don't think soulmates are a thing." Steve glanced over, hurt and a little confused, but then Sam held up his hands, "I said _ for most people. _ For _ most people_, we just get people we love. Some people may see them as soulmates or loves of our life or whatever, but the truth is most people love again. Most people can and do move on from that first 'forever love'. There's nothing wrong with loving again and there's nothing wrong with only loving that person. Or people in your case. But right now, you are punishing yourself over things you can't change and feeling sorry for yourself even though the people you love are still here. Some of us don't have that."

Steve winced and opened his mouth to apologize, but Sam shook his head, "I'm not looking for an apology, Rogers. I _ loved _ Riley, and Riley's _ gone_. Only way I can visit him is if I visit a grave. You love Vivian and Bucky. They are _ both still here_. Vivian swore to me that she'd come back to you, that she just needed a little bit of space and time. Bucky is out there, and I'm betting he'll come back to you too."

"What if Vivian changes her mind?" Steve asked quietly. "What if Bucky never wants anything to do with me? What if I find them and they send me away?"

"Then it'll hurt like hell, but you learn to live with it. You move on."

Steve felt like he could feel his heart pounding in his throat. His skin felt too tight. He didn't want to face the possibility that the people he loved would just be _ done with him_. Sam sighed and Steve inhaled sharply as Sam clapped a hand onto his shoulder, "Breathe, Steve. _ Breathe_. I'm not saying that's going to happen. In fact, I'm willing to bet money that neither will. Just remember that it's not your job to make people want to be with you."

Steve nodded and sat down on the couch, picking the file from the table. Opening it up, he flipped through it and saw that all of the drives had been removed. It was just words now.

"Clint took the ones from the files too. If you want to read the details, we won't stop you, but you don't need to see the actual footage of it."

Steve nodded, but then sighed as he flipped through the files. Details of horrific torture was there, but not much else. Not anything to speak to the mind of the soldier. He didn't know where the soldier or Vivian would go.

"Shit," Steve whispered.

"What is it?"

Clint came out of the kitchen carrying a coffee pot. He took a long drink from it before he asked, "Oh, did Steve just figure out we can't stay in DC?"

"Why not?"

Steve frowned and motioned around him, "Look at my apartment, Sam. Hydra knows this address. Bucky was able to shoot through the wall to attempt to kill Fury. He almost succeeded. What happens if they come back but this time they snatch one of my neighbors? What if they shoot through the wrong wall?"

"And where would you go?" Sam asked.

"You know, Stark was on Hydra's hit list _ and _ he has a wicked high tech building we could probably stay in," Clint said.

Steve sighed, "That would mean going to New York _ and _trusting Stark."

Clint stared at him, not unkindly as he said, "It's the only place available to us right now that would be able to withstand the kind of potential danger we're dealing with. Every other option has civilians in it. Civilians that don't have superpowered armor that can come to their rescue."

Steve glanced over at Sam and frowned, "What about you? You have a life here. I can't just ask you to pick up and move to New York."

Sam frowned, "And you're not. I've got contacts here and we'll both keep looking for a starting point. Besides, you still gotta ask Stark if you can live in his building. You figure that shit out, and while you're doing that, I can put in for a transfer to the New York site. Besides, moving to New York wouldn't be for you. I've got family that's been bothering me for years trying to get me to move back."

Steve sighed, "Are you sure?"

"Positive, man. My mom lives up there and so does my sister. My sister's got a few kids. I don't get to see any of them except for Christmas right now."

Steve glanced over at Clint, smiling when Clint scoffed, "Don't look at me. I wanna go to New York. I haven't had a decent slice of pizza in _ months_."

"The pizza place near here has your order memorized from how often you eat there," Steve pointed out.

"_Yeah_, because they're the best of the garbage options, but it's still _ bad _ pizza," Clint scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Steve shook his head and then sighed, "Okay, so I'll contact Stark to see if he's even up for this idea. Otherwise it's back to square one."

"He's not gonna say no," Clint insisted.

"You don't know that," Steve said, shaking his head.

Clint rolled his eyes, "I've seen photos of the tower. He only left the A up. Guy makes sure everyone knows he's a billionaire, and so if he wanted to replace the rest of the letters, he could. He's had the time and the money."

Steve sighed, "That's a fair point."

"You gonna involve him in the search for Bucky and Viv if you end up going there?" Sam asked.

Steve shrugged, "I'll play it by ear. There are things that the files say that make it more...complicated to get Tony involved."

"Just make sure whatever you're keeping from him won't bite you in the ass later," Sam warned.

Steve nodded, "I know."

He pulled out his phone, but then sighed when Sam snatched it away and then shook his head, "Tomorrow. You're dead on your feet. Take your goddamn meds and go to bed."

Steve glared and did as he was told. As he got ready for bed, he could hear Clint and Sam talking quietly to each other. Part of him wanted to know, but once he was in his bed he was _ out _. He just really hoped that the idea worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, sorry if y'all wanted the actual moment of Steve waking up in the hospital and saying 'on your left' once he sees Sam sitting to the right of him. I really did desperately try to figure out how I was gonna use that as the starting point for this chapter, but every time I did, it ended up having really weird pacing or being wildly short to the point where it didn't make sense as its own chapter. This was my solution.
> 
> Also, yes, I erased Natasha randomly insisting Steve should give Sharon a call. I thought it was a weird thing to put in then and I'm not having Sharon/Steve kiss ever. I don't wike it.
> 
> Oh and update on my life, but I currently have not been in quarantine for any of the pandemic. I've still been working full time and my mental health is uh, not doing too well. My work has started keeping some people home from my department, but not everyone.
> 
> Tomorrow morning I go to the doctor to see if I can get a note saying I need to be home, because otherwise I have to keep working until a government official says we can't anymore. I'm telling you this because I don't have the next chapter written yet. I'm hoping to change that today, but also I'm not doing great today. If I work next week, I genuinely don't know if I'll be able to write a chapter by Sunday, so we might be skipping a week next week. It's not a guarantee, but I wanted to give y'all a heads up on the possibility.


	32. Thirty-Two: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst and barest mention to injuries experienced before
> 
> The room described in the first half of this chapter isn't fully explained but in a lot of X-Men media, they have a training room specifically for mutants where holograms act against them. The holograms can be interacted with, but it's a lot safer to handle training that way, especially since in its original form it just...had flamethrowers and shit in there. It's hilariously called the 'Danger Room'. If you want a different nerdy comparison, it's got a lot in common with the Holodeck from Star Trek. Well with the exception that the Danger Room is, as far as I know, never used for leisure. No one's going into the Danger Room to play chess, fall in love with a fictional person in a bar, or to argue with a long dead Einstein.

"Stop. Stop. Stop."

Vivian sighed and winced at the exasperation in Jean's voice. Siting heavily against the wall, Vivian drank heavily from a water bottle, waiting for the lecture to come.

"Do you know why I stopped the simulation?" Jean asked.

"I mean, I have an idea," Vivian said. Jean just kept staring at her, so Vivian shrugged, "I need to be faster?"

Jean put her hands over her face and took a few deep breaths before she lowered them and then said, "No. Let's watch that again."

Vivian watched as the holograms reappeared, this time including one for herself. The scene was one of debris falling. Her objective had been to work with Jean to save some fictional people during a crisis. Things had been going well until Vivian had gotten to the second civilian only for a huge chunk of debris to fall toward them. Vivian had used her telekinesis to shove the child out of the way as the debris hit her.

"Well?" Jean asked. "Do you see it?"

"Should have kept an eye out on debris."

Jean sighed heavily. She sounded exhausted as she asked, "Vivian, why did you let the debris hit you?"

Vivian shrugged, "I can heal. I have healed from worse than that. The objective was to save people and that's what I did."

"No, what you did was martyr yourself!" Jean snapped. "You decided that you weren't worth protecting, and so you let yourself get hurt." Vivian stayed quiet, staring at her feet. Jean moved over and crouched down next to her, "Vivian, just because you can heal doesn't mean you should have to all the time. You can make a shield. You could have shielded both yourself and the civilian. It would have given you enough cover to pick her up and then move out of the way. Or at least it would have given you enough cover so that I could have helped you out."

"You had your own stuff you were dealing with."

"_We're a team_, Vivian! We're a _ family_! It's not some hardship for me to watch your back. It's what I'm supposed to do! And I want to do it!"

Vivian nodded, "Okay, okay. I hear you. I'm just...not really used to it."

"Well, get used to it. You've got a whole school behind you now," Jean said. She then smirked, "And besides, I'm pretty sure you've always had a certain star-spangled hero on your side. He's kind of impressive."

Vivian smiled and laughed, "That's an understatement. He's one of the good ones, you know?"

"Actually, all I know is the stuff I learned at school. Tell me about him."

Vivian smiled and leaned against the wall, "People know that he used to be short and skinny, but they mistake those things for small. They thought _ he _ was small, but he's never been anything close to that. He's always been beyond huge. He was larger than life, filled every single goddamn room he was in. All he ever wanted to do was the right thing. Stood up for every downtrodden group, even when he wasn't capable of fighting back. He'd get his ass kicked. He'd get arrested. He was a bona fide disturber of the peace."

Vivian paused and sighed, "Bucky was fawned over by everyone back then, and rightfully so. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and just had a presence. He usually didn't get into trouble unless Steve or I pulled him into the fray. Steve getting the serum kind of made history forget what a good man Bucky Barnes is and always has been. Bucky took care of his sisters whenever he could, helped out his parents, and he helped out Steve and his ma too. He would have kept doing that if he hadn't been drafted. He was good in a quieter way, but his presence was just as large. And then somehow that light, that absolute stunning example of everyday bravery, dedication and goodness, was just twisted into him being a sidekick. He was never a sidekick. Neither of them were ever sidekicks. They were always _ partners_."

"You fell in love with them."

Vivian nodded, "How could I not? Steve and Bucky were so good, so wonderful, so smart, so loving, just _ so much_. Being with them felt right. No, not just right..._like a dream_. When I was with them, I could block out the garbage. I could forget about my awful mother. I could forget about the hellish existence I kept having to go back to with those monsters, because when I was with them, it felt like nothing bad could touch me."

"I understand that," Jean said, sitting next to her and leaning against the wall. "It's important to keep people in your life that you care about and who care about you. How did it make you feel when Steve crashed that plane?"

Vivian froze, staring at the ground. Her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel it in her throat. Shaking her head, she whispered, "That was..."

"That was what?"

"It hurt. It hurt in a way that torture never has, and God only knows I've experienced damn near every type of torture a person can experience."

"So if you know how much that hurt you and Bucky, why would you risk putting them through the same?"

"I'm pretty sure I can't die."

Jean scoffed, "And you think either of them will be fine seeing you maimed? I've seen the things you've survived. I've seen that file, Vivian. Do you think Steve Rogers would handle it well if he found you in pieces?"

"He wouldn't handle it well, no."

"Ideally you'd protect yourself because you care for yourself, and I'm hoping to get you there. Until then, if you need to think about Steve Bucky, and the rest of us when you stop yourself from getting hurt, then that's what we have to do."

Vivian nodded and whispered, "Okay, I get it."

"Great, then let's run it again," Jean said, holding out a hand.

Vivian accepted the help up and nodded. They stood side by side as the simulation started but then ran off in different directions. Vivian sent debris flying to the side and slid closer to one of the kids, moving them into Jean's path before she kept going. Over and over again, she moved the kids out of the way. Finally she got to the last child, the one before. And debris fell again. Racing forward and pulling the kid close, Vivian stuck one hand into the air and focused. It was odd, feeling that energy slip up her arm and collect, but she knew she would get used to it. The energy stretched and the sound of debris hitting it made her ears ring. It crashed on the ground around them.

The simulation then ended and she was left holding air. The debris vanished, and Jean clapped. Lowering her arm, Vivian grinned and whispered, "Holy shit."

"Yeah, see how much better it is when you don't needlessly get injured?"

Vivian rolled her eyes, but nodded. Jean walked over and hugged her. Vivian hugged back, nodding as Jean said, "That's enough for today though. Just think about what we talked about."

"That's code for, 'I have a date with Scott'."

"Oh, absolutely," Jean grinned, pulling back and walking off.

Vivian shook her head, calling after her, "Have fun! Use protection!" She snickered as Jean shook her head.

"Think about what we talked about," Jean called back, making Vivian groan. Heading up to her room, Vivian showered and got dressed in loose clothing before then heading out onto the grounds. People were running around and laughing.

It'd been easy to forget that her pain affected others. Bucky couldn't remember himself most of the time, much less remember that he cared about her, and Steve had thought she was dead. It'd just...been simpler to take the pain, to just deal with it all. And she also thought she deserved it. Sitting down heavily, she stared out at the lake. It wasn't going to be easy to break a habit that'd been around for _ decades _.

"Thought you were training with Jean?"

"I was," Vivian said, not looking at Logan. "She had a date with Scott, so we finished early. So now you know where she is."

"I...I wasn't looking for Jean, kid."

"Really? That's a surprise. Figured it was the only reason you were speaking to me."

Logan sighed and sat down next to her, "Okay, I deserve that."

Vivian shrugged, "Not about deserving anything. It's not a judgment call. I get it. You didn't know I existed. You weren't looking to be someone's father. I'm not your problem."

"Anyone tell you that you got a really fucking huge problem with putting words into other people's mouths?"

"Several."

"Yeah, well, you should start listening to them."

Vivian smiled softly, "Yeah, Jean said as much today. Apparently it's unhealthy to just let yourself absorb damage."

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to duck?"

"Not really. Mostly just taught me how to fight through the pain. I can run a mile in around three or four minutes normally. I can run a mile in just over seven minutes on a broken leg. Although that usually does wild stuff to the fracture. One time I shattered my leg doing that."

"Jesus Christ."

"I'm not saying you are over here out of guilt, but if you do feel guilty, then you shouldn't."

"Oh really?" Logan scoffed, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. "Why not?"

"Because you didn't know. There was no way you could have known."

Logan sighed, "Professor told me about how you were there during..."

"During the time you volunteered yourself to be filled with liquid metal? Yeah, I was there. Your shithead brother was there too."

"You met Sabretooth?"

"Yeah. We talked for a bit. He didn't know who I was, but holy shit did he love the sound of his own voice."

Logan snorted and then coughed, pulling the cigar away from his mouth before he choked, "Yeah. He's got that issue."

Vivian frowned and stared at the ground, "Before you got that metal...you were more like me, right? Getting hurt and healing?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"What's the worst thing you healed from?"

Logan sighed and exhaled smoke. Glancing over at him, she saw that he was staring out at the water. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he admitted, "I fought in a lot of wars. A lot of bullet wounds. Gut shots were usually the worst. Saw in your file that you took a headshot. I took shots to the face, but not..."

"Not a brain jury."

"Yeah."

"Lucky. They fucking suck."

"How come Hydra didn't put adamantium in you?"

Vivian grinned, "Because of you." When Logan just looked confused, she shrugged, "The first thing you did when you came out of that tank was kill some of the government agents in that room. And then you fled. They had to spend a lot of money and manpower to get you back. And then when they got you back, it took a fuckload to keep you under control. I'd already been a problem, but they'd figured out how to control me. Making it less easy to control me wasn't something they were interested in doing. Plus, every time I got injured, they studied my recovery. It taught them a tremendous amount about the human body. Bonus point was the fact that they just got to see me in pain."

Logan winced, flicking ash onto the grass before he said, "Your file said that you killed..."

"You're really going to have to suck it up and figure out a way to finish that sentence, because that's not a guessing game I'm interested in playing."

"Ophelia."

"Oh, yeah. I slit her throat. Felt poetic at the time considering what she'd done to me. Well, felt poetic while it was happening, and then everything just felt hollow for a while." Vivian paused and then said, "Hey, do you wanna talk about something other than how I had to murder my own mother because she was the actual worst?"

Logan chuckled, "Yeah, kid, we can do that."

Vivian picked a dandelion from the ground and twirled it between her fingers. As she stared at it, she asked, "When your mutant abilities first appeared...did you know what it meant?"

Logan was silent for several minutes and then he shook his head, "No. It wasn't something that was talked about. Even after I ran off, it was just me and my brother. If anyone else in my family had abilities, it wasn't talked about. Didn't even hear the word 'mutant' until decades after that. Wasn't really aware or in touch with the rest of the community until the government task force. And even then, there wasn't much talk about _ being _ mutants. We just were...mutants with a dangerous job. We used our powers to get that job done, but we didn't _ talk_."

"I talked a little bit about my powers to Bucky after we were both stuck with Hydra. He understood bits and pieces, thanks to the serum, but it's...it's different. He cared, but he didn't understand. Not really. The people here, well...they understand _ and _ they care, which kind of sucks, because it means I can't lie to Jean even when she _ isn't _ reading my mind. Charles too."

A teen shrieking with laughter ran in front of them and toward the lake. Another followed until they crashed into the water. The laughter lingered in the air and Vivian smiled, "Okay, well, probably they don't understand everything, but I'm glad they don't."

"It gets easier."

"What does?"

"Letting people help you. Letting yourself have nice things," Logan said, glancing at her.

"Promise?" Vivian said. She'd meant for it to sound joking, even though it wasn't, but unfortunately her voice gave her away.

"Yeah, kid. I promise."

For a moment, they just sat there, and then Vivian rested her head against his shoulder. Logan tensed up for a moment, but then relaxed. There was a moment of silence before Logan said, "I know you're planning on going back to Rogers as soon as you can, but you always have a home here."

"I know, but you know when I leave that doesn't mean I've fucked out of your life forever, right? Like, I know you're ancient, but _ phones are a thing_."

Logan shoved her and she landed on the ground, laughing hard as he shook his head, "You're a little fucking shit."

Vivian's laughter lessened and she grinned, sitting up as she said, "Yeah, it's been a complaint about me before. No one was sure where that genetic quirk came from. Pretty sure it's your fault."

Logan smiled, "Yeah, probably." He then paused, looking more serious before he said, "If he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

"Fuck you," Vivian said, rolling her eyes. "If he hurts me, _ I'll _ kick his ass, and then I'll call you to bitch. Your job will just be to listen."

"All right, but he looks like a tough son of a bitch."

Vivian scoffed, "First of all, the scenario we're talking about is pretty improbable, and even if he did for some reason hurt me and it was on purpose, which once again I'm seriously doubting, I think he would just let me hurt him back." She paused and then quietly added, "He hates it when people he loves are in pain."

"You know it from experience?"

Vivian nodded, "Worked in a hospital before I joined the war effort. My hours were insane, I was just stretched too thin. Probably would have collapsed if I'd been a normal human. Every time I was exhausted, it drove Steve and Bucky nuts. They both worried about me so much. Steve especially since I'd help him when he was sick. He just kept being worried that he'd make me sick. He didn't know he couldn't. He didn't know the only way I can catch something is if my immune system is just too bogged down to function. He didn't know what I am, but he loved _ who _ I was."

"The propaganda videos he made are still fucking annoying."

Vivian burst into laughter, laying onto the grass and admitting, "Yeah, those were pretty bad, but he_ looks great _ in them." Logan groaned and got up, walking off, and Vivian laughed harder. She leaned up onto her arms and watched the students laughing, interaction, and just enjoying the day.

She could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, I did actually get a note to stay home this past week and next week from work. I have no idea what's going to happen after that, but I was obviously able to write this chapter during last week. I also have a chunk of next week's chapter done and I'm confident that the entirety of that chapter will be done, so next week is a go. I'm hoping to be back on schedule, but I will obviously give y'all updates with the next chapter.
> 
> And also, from the bottom of my heart, despite writing thousands upon thousands of words, I really just don't have the words to express how fucking grateful and in awe of y'all I am. You guys are wonderful readers and I love every single one of you. Thank you so much for making this experience better just all the time.


	33. Thirty-Three: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst, brief mention of stalking/harassment that is stopped before anything can happen

A honk made Bucky flinch as he hurried along the crosswalk. He had plenty of time left to cross, but it seems the person waiting just didn't care. He shifted his bag on his shoulders, nervously glancing at other pedestrians as he walked. Luckily most people didn't give him a second glance, one of the benefits of him hiding out in New York. He'd tried other areas, but people had started taking second glances. New York was too crowded to do that, too divided up into its own boroughs and various fast paced lives. Most just didn't have time to worry about him.

They had to get to work, bust their ass, come home, maybe find time for something else if they were lucky, and then sleep. He remembered doing that. He now remembered long shifts at the garage, some so long and so tiresome that he couldn't eat until he got home. Some days he thought he'd have to sleepwalk home. Some days he came close. A couple times he just fell asleep while eating.

New York, despite its changes, also just _ felt _ like home to him. New York looked different by miles, but its _ soul _ felt the same. It was still that same honking and laughing. And his own ghosts kept it similar. He could hear Steve's laughter, a sound that sounded too big for his small frame. He could hear Vivian's teasing. He could hear the sounds of mechanics joking around and some of the back and forth just made him feel like no time had passed at all.

Central Park had some changes, but it felt the same. Parts of it just looked the same. He could sit there and pretend he was back there, back during a time when things were _ normal_.

Unfortunately, one thing that had just gotten more of the same was how expensive things were. He'd done about five minutes of research on places to live within New York, and he realized that basically all of it was out of his range. He'd even stopped at a few more Hydra drop points and cleared out all the cash from them, but it still wouldn't be enough. Besides, he'd also have to find someone who'd be willing to rent to a stranger with no ID who wanted to pay in all cash.

It just wasn't likely to happen.

Motels were good for a night or a two, but Bucky knew he couldn't stay in them for long. A lot tended to be fine with his wanting to pay in cash, but what they weren't fine with were his night terrors. Some nights he only had nightmares, and so those were fine. Those were just harmful to him. He'd wake up trembling and he'd burst into tears, desperately needing a shower. Night terrors had him screaming. One place even called the cops, and it was only by pure luck that he'd managed to leave before they entered the room. They didn't always happen though and sometimes he could go over a week without having a night terror. Most places he could at least go a couple nights.

He'd lasted one this time.

It was infuriating because he'd had a good day. The memories he'd retrieved were good ones. He'd remembered trips to Coney Island. He'd remembered cinnamon rolls for Vivian's birthday. He remembered pie and ice cream for Steve's. He remembered getting surprised every year for his. Just good food. Sometimes a decadent meal. Sometimes a chocolate cake with thick fudge icing. He remembered the feeling of ice against heated skin. He remembered curling up with loved ones while staring out at snowfall blanketing the city.

And then he'd gone to sleep and he'd remembered the white hot pain of being electrocuted. He remembered the agony and despair he'd felt desperately trying to help Vivian after she got shot in the head. He could feel her blood seeping into his skin, her blank eyes staring up at him. He remembered how sometimes her heart would just _ stop _ and he'd have to get it to start again, and as he'd heard those ribs cracking, he'd screamed. He'd screamed, but it wasn't in the dream. He was just _ screaming _ , a guttural scream and then the phone had rang. They'd received noise complaints, because of course they had. He'd woken up half the place by _ screaming _ at four in the morning.

So he'd showered, checked out early, and just wandered the city.

And now he wasn't sure if it was even safe to stay in a motel anymore. The times between night terrors weren't getting further apart. They were getting worse. His days were getting better, but his nights were getting worse, and Bucky wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. So he rode the subway over and over again. He visited parks. He curled up in a corner of the library. He sat on benches and just stared. He walked for miles.

He did all of those things, but now it was getting dark. Night was coming and he was going to need to find a new place to stay for the night. He wanted to just sleep in central park, but cops weren't gonna let him do that. They'd arrest him in a heartbeat. Carrying around a duffle bag hadn't made things easier, but luckily it hadn't been too bad. His height, stature and just enough of a glare had meant people had left him alone.

As it started to get really dark, Bucky ducked into an alley near a few bars. It was quiet for now, but he knew that would change soon. More importantly, they'd be open if he needed anything, and he could hide amongst people out to have a good time if the cops came around. Glancing around, he then slung his duffle up onto the roof and climbed up. The roof wasn't exactly clean, but it was better than the ground and it would also be harder for the cops to spot him up there, especially if he stayed away from the street. If he wanted things, he also knew that leaving his stuff on the roof was a pretty safe bet. There was roof access from the building, but it didn't look like it had been used in quite some time.

He sat down and pulled out a notebook, writing down the new memories he'd gotten throughout the day. He'd had to get several more notebooks since that first initial one he'd gotten. He'd gotten a few more, bought these from museums dotted along the way up. It took a while to write it all down, to find the words to describe the _ feelings _ that the memories had evoked. He didn't want to miss a single detail, not when he didn't know how long this freedom would last. He hoped for the rest of his life, but he couldn't know for sure. He didn't know if someone would come along and rip it all from him. What if he lost himself again? What if he lost _ them _ again?

Bucky paused as he wrote and pulled out the photos of Steve and Vivian. He blinked back tears and pressed a kiss to each. Slipping the photos back into the first notebook, he moved then ran his fingertips along the decal of the shield on it. If he closed his eyes, he could remember the weight of it in his hands. He could remember using it to protect Steve and then later against him. He could remember what it sounded like when bullets bounced off it and what it sounded like when his own fist came into contact with it. He shook his head and shoved the book into his bag as he heard the telltale signs of the nightlife swinging into full gear. He could hear people laughing and talking loudly.

He moved closer to the edge of the roof, peering over it as people moved toward the bar. His eyes widened though as he saw men and women coming to the club, but they weren't paired as a man and woman. He watched as two men laughed and flirted as they approached the building. Their hands were all over each other, and before they entered the building, Bucky saw them kiss. The kiss couldn't be mistaken for anything other than romantic. He saw two women exhibit similar behavior. Others he heard openly talk about their romantic lives. None of them had to _ hide _ the pronouns of their partner. None of them looked afraid to admit what they were.

Bucky stayed there for a while, peering into this world he hadn't been able to fathom back before the war. Sure, there'd been gay bars that he'd slipped off to with Steve and Vivian, but they'd been practically underground. They weren't talked about openly, and he sure as hell hadn't been able to talk about their love life in the middle of a street.

People kept coming and going over the next few hours, but Bucky frowned as he then noticed a woman stumbling down the street. She was giggling and she was messing with her phone. A man was walking a few yards behind her, watching her carefully. He began speeding up as she got closer to the alley. She ducked into the alley and Bucky moved to the side of the roof to keep an eye on her. She'd stopped to vomit into the dumpster. She wiped her hands and mouth with a wet wipe from her purse, chugged some water and threw both out.

As she turned to leave the alley though, the man was there, blocking the way. He had a sneer on his face. Glaring, Bucky stood up and prepared to drop down. The woman was crowded against the wall and before the scream for help even left her, Bucky hopped down and rushed over. Slamming his shoulder into the offender's side, he pinned the man against the dumpster before he turned toward the woman. She looked stunned and terrified. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and he nodded to her. She took off, her phone up as she frantically called for a ride.

"What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?"

Rolling his eyes, Bucky slammed the man's head against the dumpster, knocking him unconscious. He glanced over at the woman, relieved to see her surrounded by other women. He then stared back down at the unconscious man and sighed. He really hoped he'd managed to control his strength. He knew the man wasn't dead, but he couldn't tell if he'd accidentally done more damage than he'd meant to. He really just wanted to stop him from trying anything like that again that night.

He glanced toward the girl again, further relieved to see her and several other women getting into a cab together. She'd be safe. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked back at the man and he could feel his own heart rate increase. He could hear people laughing and heading toward the alley, so he turned and climbed back onto the roof. He thought about watching, but he stopped himself. He was trembling. God, he could have easily just murdered that man. He could have slipped back into that mode and there'd be no menacing backing to blame for that, no haunting words, _ no brainwashing_. It would just be _ him_.

A soft thump behind Bucky had him glancing back. He sighed as he saw a man in what looked like head to toe red leather. The mask had horns on it. Sitting down near his bag, Bucky said, "I only knocked him out, if that's what you're wondering."

"I know you did," he replied. "His heart's still beating."

Bucky fidgeted nervously. He wasn't looking to get into an actual fist fight with Daredevil. Folding his arms across his chest, Bucky had to stop himself from hunching his shoulders up and cowering into himself. God damn it, he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd just _ almost _ done something wrong.

"I just wanted to make sure he couldn't follow her or try to find someone new to go after. That's all, I swear."

Daredevil's posture relaxed and he asked, "Are you okay?"

Bucky shrugged. He nervously licked his bottom lip and glanced toward the alley again. As he did so, he winced when Daredevil asked, "Were you following that woman?"

"_No_," Bucky replied vehemently. "I wouldn't do that. I don't even know the dame. I was just...I needed a place to go."

"So you chose the roof of a bar?"

Bucky shrugged, "Cops patrol the parks too often."

"What about a homeless shelter?"

Bucky stared down at the ground as he asked, "Why do you care?"

"What do you mean?"

Bucky scoffed, "I mean, I've read about you. You're 'Daredevil', right? Your whole deal is beating up criminals and being a goddamn martyr. Ten bucks says you're catholic."

Daredevil chuckled, "You'd win that bet." He then crouched down in front of Bucky and asked, "What's your name?"

Bucky frowned and took off his glove, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers, "Bucky Barnes."

"That's a metal hand."

"Observant of you."

"You're the Winter Soldier."

Bucky stared up at the sky, "Wasn't a choice. If it had been, none of it would have happened." Bucky then sighed and stared back down at his feet, "You probably don't believe me. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. It sounds fucking stupid. Brainwashing. If someone had told me before it all happened that I'd end up brainwashed for decades, I'd think they'd been drinking too much."

"I believe you."

Bucky stared at Daredevil. Shaking his head, Bucky asked, "_Why_? Why do you believe me? I'm just some fucking idiot with a metal arm sitting on the roof of a bar."

"I can hear your heartbeat. You weren't lying."

"Yeah, you mentioned that before. Wasn't sure what you meant. I thought you checked before coming up here, but you're enhanced, aren't you? Are you a mutant?"

Daredevil shook his head, "No. I had an accident when I was a kid. Chemicals. Enhanced my senses."

"Fuck, that sounds like hell. Sorry about that."

Daredevil smiled softly, "It's not all bad. It helps me do this. It's the reason I can help people."

Bucky shook his head, "Jesus. You and Steve are so fucking alike. You both think the reason you both are dumbasses is because of some stupid enhancements, but you're wrong. Steve was always a stubborn, reckless martyr, and I'm betting you were too. Bet the accident happened with you doing something stupidly heroic."

"You sure you're not psychic?"

"If I were psychic, I'd be the worst psychic who ever lived. A little enhanced from the serum, but otherwise, I'm just a guy who recognizes a martyr. And you decided to defend civilians while dressed in head to toe red leather."

"So what you're saying is I lack subtlety," Daredevil said with a grin. Bucky nodded, but then was shocked when he asked, "How come you don't go to Captain America? Isn't he your friend?"

Bucky winced, "It's complicated."

"He turn you away?"

"_No_. No, that's not it. I just...the last orders I was given were to kill him. And I don't know if those orders are fully gone yet."

Daredevil nodded, but then Bucky's eyes widened as he said, "You know I can't let you keep sleeping in alleys and on rooftops, right?"

Bucky shrugged, "I don't know where else to go. I can't stay in a shelter. It's too many people. Motels end up calling the cops on me sooner rather than later thanks to my night terrors."

"And so you decided the roof of a bar is your solution?"

"I figured the sound would stop me from getting too deep of sleep, but that I'd at least be able to nap. I figured I'd search for a better place in the morning. Maybe rent one of those mini storage units or something and just sleep in there."

Daredevil sighed and shook his head, "And what happens when someone checking on their storage unit hears you _ screaming _inside another one? You think the cops won't get called then?"

Bucky sighed, "That's a fair point, but I don't know what else to do. I can go a few days with just napping, but at some point I have to find somewhere to sleep, and I just--I don't want to put people in danger. Next option is to find an abandoned warehouse or something."

"Those abandoned factories aren't usually as abandoned as you'd think."

Bucky ran a hand over his face before he demanded weakly, "What do you want from me? I can't get a place without someone wanting ID and that's if they didn't recognize me immediately. What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?"

"Come with me."

Bucky glanced up, his eyes narrowed, "You don't even know me. Hell, you clearly don't want people knowing who you are, so why the fuck do you think it's a good idea to invite me back to your place?"

Daredevil sighed and sat down next to him. Bucky watched as the mask or helmet or whatever it was got pulled from the man's head, revealing dark brown hair and brown eyes. Brown eyes that wouldn't quite focus on him.

"Holy shit, you're blind," Bucky whispered.

Daredevil nodded, "Chemicals blinded me when I was a kid. A truck was going to hit an old man crossing the street. I pushed him out of the way, and yes, I am catholic."

"Fuckin' catholic martyrs. Knew it."

Daredevil smiled widely, "Do you know what my favorite stories from history classes were? Both before and after my accident?"

"Steve," Bucky whispered, blinking back tears.

"Before my accident, I just thought it great, seeing a couple of catholic boys beating back the bad guys, saving the day, And then I got injured and Steve's journey became...well, it became a little more personal."

"I can give you his number if you'd like. I'll tell him to focus all of his do-good energy on Daredevil."

"I also remember reading about you in school. I read about how you kept him alive. There were even a few theories that you'd been drafted into the war instead of enlisted, that you'd wanted to protect your home and your family. You and Steve were an amazing duo. Practically sharing a mind."

"So what? Keeping me safe for your childhood hero?"

"Keeping you safe because it's the right thing to do, and I think you know all about that."

Bucky sighed and stared down at his hands. The metal hand had a slight glint, even under low light. For a long time, he'd been able to look at his hands and see them one way, and then the war had happened and everything had changed. He had changed. Blinking back tears, he whispered, "What if I hurt you?"

"You won't. I'll be able to hear you before you even make a move. You may have brute strength on your side, but there's no way you'll be able to sneak up on me. Name's Matt, by the way."

Matt held out his hand and Bucky shook it. Bucky then frowned and said, "Are you sure you're okay with me staying with you? You could easily change your mind. It's not like I would go to the cops about you. And even if I was the kind of dickhead to do that, they wouldn't exactly believe me. What's even your day job?"

"Lawyer, specifically defense attorney." Bucky snorted and threw back his head, laughter shaking his entire body. Matt smiled and chuckled, "Yeah, it's a bit of a cliché."

Bucky shook his head and sighed, catching his breath, "Fuck, god, okay. Say I live with you, a person I just met. What if I have a night terror?"

Matt tilted his head to the side, "I can hear things from a block away. I can hear every click of your arm. I can hear every single car on that street. I had to learn to block out a lot, but if I didn't soundproof my apartment, I'd never be able to sleep."

"So what, we share a bedroom?"

Matt chuckled, "Sort of. Not that long ago, an acquaintance of mine needed a place to stay, but I didn't have another room, so I slept on the couch. I decided after that situation ended that my couch isn't actually good enough. So I invested in an air mattress that stays under my bed when it's not being used."

Bucky nodded, "Okay, I'll stay with you. I just...if at any point you think it's dangerous for me to be there, just tell me and I'll get out of your hair."

"Deal."

They shook on it and then Bucky got up and gathered his things. Matt put his mask back on and said, "I'll lead you back to my place and help you get set up, but I'll have to leave you for the night."

"Thank you, Matt. I mean it," Bucky said, grabbing his stuff and slinging it onto his back. Matt waved aside the apology and Bucky followed him to the next rooftop. It was a little finicky keeping up with Matt while holding his things, but it wasn't too hard. Soon they made it to a building and headed up to his apartment. The apartment itself was nice, although the view was a giant neon sign.

"Bedroom's this way."

Bucky followed Matt and sighed as he realized just how _ quiet _ the bedroom was. The walls were covered in thick, professional soundproofing. There was a bed covered in silk sheets. Matt reached under the bed and pulled out a bag, "Bed should be set up near the wall. I sleep near the door. Machine to blow up the bed more is in the closet. Bathroom is the door over there. Try not to drink all my beer."

"Will do."

Matt started to leave and Bucky cleared his throat before he said, "Hey Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep yourself safe out there. I know some first aid, but watch your back, all right? You don't deserve to be in pain."

Matt nodded, "I'll try my best."

Bucky opened up the bag and set up the bed near the wall. A quick shower and a change of clothes was enough to make him near exhausted. He then managed to barely get into bed before he fell asleep. He just hoped this solution actually worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Matt Murdock and I think Charlie Cox is adorable. Don't @ me. Also, if anyone is curious as to where this takes place in the Daredevil netflix show's timeline, i'm picturing it after season 1 (which you probably guessed because of the costume), but I'm also picturing it as before season 2. In that weird sweet spot of "Matt's pushing himself to the point of insanity as an established vigilante, but isn't going up against Frank Castle or dealing with huge cults or Elektra".
> 
> Next week is still a go and fingers crossed for being on schedule like this for a while. Once again, will always let you know if I ever need to skip a week. I love y'all (both old and new) for sticking with me through this. I hope you're all keeping yourselves safe, healthy, and happy. <3


	34. Thirty-Four: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst. lots of angst. Also a lot of discussion of past torture. Like, enough where if you're not able to read it then there's not much of the chapter to read once Steve walks off to talk to Tony.
> 
> Also, shout out to Inspirethefire because they did wanna know when Steve would have this talk with Tony. Tada! It's now.
> 
> Also, sorry to any Tony stans reading. He is gonna get dunked on in this fic (sort of in this chapter, but not really) a fair amount when he behaves badly. My plan is to actually give him character growth though and stick with it. Please don't hate me.

Steve and Sam both sat at the kitchen table, staring at each other. Neither one of them made a move or said anything. They hadn't spoken in several minutes, actually. They had blinked though. It wasn't a staring contest.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you two doing?" Clint asked, stumbling in with a laughably large cup of coffee with his name misspelled on the side sloshing in his hand.

"Steve here was just about to tell me about how we've all been living in Stark's building for a few months now, but he hasn't actually spoken to Tony," Sam said, glaring.

Steve winced as Clint _ cackled _ , sitting down at the table and grinning, "Oh come the fuck on, Rogers. Really? You haven't spoken to him _ once_? What, did you ask to live here via _ text_?"

"No," Steve said. "I spoke to Ms. Potts. She arranged this." He stared at the table before he added quietly, "And then I texted Tony."

Clint was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair and Sam just sighed, "Man, you're such a train wreck."

"I was going to call him," Steve said, raising his voice to talk over Clint's snorts, giggles and long strings of laughter. Sam shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Steve interrupted, "I'm serious. I was going to call him. I called Pepper and she said her and Tony were on vacation. I mentioned to her about the idea and she said she'd ask him. Tony texted me not to call, because only serial killers call people instead of text. Then Pepper called me back and said Tony gave his approval. She said JARVIS would just know we could be here and would be able to help us with everything we'd need, and so..." He shrugged helplessly, "I honestly thought they'd have ended their vacation by now and be back so I could talk to him."

"You were relying on--" Sam got cut off by Clint falling off the chair and hitting the floor hard. His laughter continued though so Sam shook his head, "Man, where's Natasha? Isn't she supposed to be keeping your dumb ass from doing that?"

Clint, who had his coffee held up into the air, pushed himself up and then chugged a good portion of the cup before he belched and said, "She said to go bother you two since she was busy doing her own research and didn't have time for 'miserable fuckboys'." Sam gaped, but before he could protest, Clint altered, "Miserable fuckboys _ and _ Sam."

"Damn right."

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head at how gleeful Sam looked to be separated from that title. Glancing down at Clint, Steve grabbed the coffee cup from him and set it on the table before he said, "Maybe you shouldn't have any more coffee for a little while."

"This is the reason I don't suck your dick anymore," Clint said with a huff, getting up off the floor as Sam choked on his water.

"Clint, you know he hates it when you do that," Steve said with a smile.

Clint shrugged and grinned, "Why do you think I do it?"

"You're a terrible person," Sam said with a glare.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Honey, I'm home!"

Exchanging a glance with Clint and Sam, Steve glanced over as Tony strolled into the room. He was still wearing sunglasses. Standing up, Steve stepped away from the table as he said, "Welcome back."

Tony scoffed and pulled off his sunglasses, "Look at you, welcoming to my building as if it's not mine."

Steve sighed, "Thank you for--"

"Gross, don't turn this into an emotional moment. Besides, it was Pepper's idea. Although I should have let you find somewhere else to stay considering you couldn't be bothered to call me when you blew up the government."

Sam rolled his eyes and Clint was loudly and obnoxiously slurping his coffee. Ignoring both of them, Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and said, "Sorry. There was a lot going on and we weren't sure how closely Hydra was watching you."

Tony shrugged, "Whatever. That's what you get for trusting SHIELD tech instead of mine."

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time a subset of the government tries to kill us all," Steve said with a smile.

Tony shrugged, and then glanced over at Sam and said, "Sam Wilson."

"That's my name," Sam said, arching an eyebrow.

"You're the one with the other dumb bird nickname, but you actually have wings."

Clint stopped drinking his coffee long enough to scoff, "Hawkeye is a fucking great name and Falcon's badass. Only dumb nickname is yours, _ Iron Man_."

Steve glanced down at the ground and hid a chuckle. Tony gaped and Sam high fived Clint.

"Iron Man is a _ great _ name!" Tony snapped.

Counting back from ten, Steve stepped between the group before anyone could add on and said, "You all have great superhero names. Tony, can I talk to you about something?"

Tony pulled out his phone and began typing on it, "Can't it be texted? I'm bored with this conversation."

"Tony, I'm serious. Just five minutes of your time. This is important," Steve said.

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded, "Fine, but if we're having a serious conversation, I'm getting a drink. Follow me."

When they got to the elevator, Natasha was stepping off of it, a slow grin spreading across her face as she saw them. "Hey, fellas."

"Hey, Nat," Steve said with a smile, shaking his head as she smirked at him.

"Widow," Tony said, eyeing her up and down.

Nat winked at them both and slid between them, strolling over to the table. As soon as the elevator doors shut, Steve wished he hadn't asked for this meeting as Tony asked, "So, how long have you two been going on?"

"We're not."

"Liar."

"Think whatever you want, but Natasha and I aren't together."

The doors slid open and they headed over to the bar. For a second as he glanced around, Steve could almost see that shattered floor with Loki laying in it, but he shook his head and sat on one of the bar stools as Tony prepared himself a drink.

"So you really are Captain Virgin, huh?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but just because I'm not having sex with Natasha doesn't mean I've never had sex."

Tony took a sip of his drink and then coughed, "You and Aunt Peggy? Shit. I never thought she--"

"_No_," Steve interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Not Peggy. We had feelings for each other, but it never went past that and a couple of kisses. Besides, my sex life is not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I will find out eventually."

"Sure, but for now, there is something serious I want to talk to you about. I didn't want this to be information I texted to you, but you deserve to know."

Tony poured another drink and pushed the glass toward him, "Okay, then talk."

Ignoring the glass, Steve admitted, "It's about your parents."

Tony paused, staring into his glass, "What about them?"

"It took a while to piece together, and the situation is more complicated than you think so I'm asking you to listen to everything before making a judgment. The main thing that...their deaths weren't accidents."

Tony got a far off look in his gaze and Steve winced as Tony slammed back the drink before pouring himself twice the amount of liquor. He downed that too before he hissed out, "Hydra?"

"Yeah. Long story, but before SHIELD went up in flames, I had a talk with Zola. He made it pretty clear their car accident wasn't an accident at all when he was talking about ways Hydra changed the course of history."

Steve watched Tony carefully, watched the man's brown eyes go glassy. He could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He squeezed hard on his glass before he set it on the counter. His body was tense, almost strained as he bit out, "_Why_?"

"Hydra was hired to kill him, but they probably wouldn't have done it unless it also benefited them. It was most likely something he was working on."

"You're not telling me everything," Tony said, staring up at him with wide eyes. He laughed a hollow laugh, "God, I'm being lied to by Captain America. You fucking know something. What is it?"

Steve thought about everything he'd read from that file. He thought about how he read the details of Viv's interrogation from before they'd _ shot her in the head _ . Steve took a sip of his alcohol, doing his best not to wince as Tony slammed his fist on the counter and shouted, "_Tell me_!"

Finishing the drink, Steve set the glass down and admitted, "Tony...there's footage and a transcript of an interrogation that took place on the day your parents were killed and I need you to let me explain everything before you ask questions."

"I'm not the one who owes the other one something right now, Steve, so fucking talk."

"Fair," Steve sighed. "Not that long before your parents died, did you get arrested at a club?"

Tony glared, "What the fuck does this have to do with my parents? Are you trying to say what? That my partying ways got my parents _ killed_? What the fu--"

"_No_," Steve interrupted, feeling slightly frantic. "No, I'm not. Just answer the question. I promise I'll explain."

"Fine, yes. I went to a club. I got drunk. I got arrested."

"You got arrested with drugs on you and in your system. Drugs you didn't have when you went into that club. Drugs you didn't take," Steve pointed out. Tony nodded, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line, and Steve continued, "There was a woman there with you. You...spent some time together. She drugged you and planted drugs on you after finding out where your family was going on vacation."

Steve watched Tony's jaw work and watched him just grab a bottle and take a swig, "Yeah, I remember her. Figured it was too good to be true. She Hydra? What was her angle anyway? Want me dead?"

Steve sighed, "Hydra had been watching you for some time, but they knew you had a penchant for attractive women, so she was sent in to get the vacation information. Hydra had been hired by Obadiah Stane."

"_Stane_?" Tony bit out. "Fuck."

"Hydra's plan was never for you to get arrested," Steve admitted. "They wanted the whole family dead, but then you got arrested with mystery drugs on you and in your system, so you didn't go on the trip."

"You're saying that agent saved my life."

"That's what I think and it's what Hydra thought too, because they shot her directly in the forehead over it," Steve said. "Body for a body."

"Am I supposed to feel bad for a murderer?" Tony sneered.

Steve swallowed hard and shrugged, "I'm not telling you how to feel, but I will tell you that the agent in question wasn't there voluntarily. I can tell you she'd been tortured for decades. I can tell you that she's a mutant who heals and they abused that power every chance they got. I can tell you that she survived that bullet hole and they left her in a locked room with someone without medical training and just left her to heal on her own. I can tell you how many infections she got. I can tell you how long it took her to regain the ability to speak. I can tell you all sorts of things, but I can't make you forgive her. Also, for what it's worth, she didn't kill your parents."

Tony glared, "Then who did?"

Steve winced and sighed, "Do you know who the Winter Soldier is?"

"No. That the name of the son of a bitch who killed my parents?"

Steve stared up at the ceiling and counted back from ten, breathing deeply through his nose and letting the breath out through his mouth before he answered, "Yes, but it's complicated. It wasn't his fault." Tony burst into laughter, looking close to tears and Steve stared at him before he explained, "Hydra figured out how to brainwash a person, to really do it."

"I don't care."

"They pumped him full of chemicals--"

"_I don't care_."

"_They fried his brain_," Steve said, standing up and raising his voice. "They beat him until he couldn't move. They put a bomb in his arm so that if he even thought about fighting back, they could kill him instantly. They conditioned him to respond to trigger commands. When he was the Winter Soldier, there was no person there, just a weapon. There was no saying no. There was no understanding of what he was doing."

"Should have tried harder," Tony scoffed. "I got tortured in the desert. I didn't become a terrorist. I didn't--"

"_Tony, goddamn it, listen!_" Steve shouted. Tony stumbled back, looking shocked and Steve felt tears slip down his cheeks, "That man, that soldier, was tortured to the point where he didn't even know _ his own goddamn name_. They burned every part of him that was human out of him and they did it over and over and over again, so when he killed your parents, it _ wasn't him_."

"Why do you fucking care so much? Why are you trying so damn hard to defend some fucking piece of--"

"If it was Pepper, how far would you go to protect her?" Tony stared at him in shock and Steve smiled weakly, "Tony, it's Bucky. It's my Bucky. And that woman who saved your life? That's Vivian."

"You're telling me that my parents got killed by your ex-best friend and his girlfriend?"

"I'm telling you that my boyfriend and my girlfriend were taken hostage by a criminal organization decades ago and were forced to do awful things. I'm saying they're not responsible," Steve said slowly and deliberately.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Steve winced when Tony scoffed, "That's why you wanted to live here. You wanted to use _ my tech _ to track down the people who killed my parents, but not to kill them. Not to take them into custody, but to what? Bring them back here? Have me pay for them to live here?"

"_No_. I wouldn't have just brought them here. I would never make you do something like that, Tony. I don't even know if they want to be with me anymore, but we'll figure out a place to live. I wanted to be honest with you."

"Do you want me to _ thank you_?"

"_No_," Steve sighed. "No, that's not what I'm asking for. I didn't want to lie to you, and I didn't want to put this off."

"You wanted to protect _ them_," Tony snapped, pointing angrily in Steve's face. His hand was shaking and Steve shook his head.

"I never said I didn't want to protect them, Tony," Steve sighed.

Tony laughed bitterly, "You're full of it."

"Tony, I wanted you to know the truth. That's not mutually exclusive from wanting to protect the people I love."

Steve flinched when Tony's scathing laugh got louder. Steve then had to move to the side as Tony threw his glass at full force and it _ shattered _ on the ground behind him. Nodding, Steve stared down at the broken glass before he turned and headed back to the elevator. As soon as he made it on, he sat down on the floor and sighed. He'd been afraid of this conversation for so long, but he'd hoped he'd been wrong. Finding out that he'd actually _ underestimated _ how mad Tony would be was a shock. The elevator stopped before he got back to his floor and Steve glanced up in confusion, wincing as the door opened and Pepper Potts stepped in.

"Did Tony tell you?" Steve asked weakly.

Pepper shook her head and he was surprised when she held out her hand, "Come on. You look like you could use another drink."

Taking her hand and standing up, he followed her into the floor and found himself staring at rooms he'd never seen before. The sitting area was tastefully decorated. Art covered the walls, not in the way it was on most floors. This art was carefully displayed with correct lighting. The art had a theme. It'd been curated, not just haphazardly put up.

"Tony gave me this floor. It's the place I come when I need to think or if I want to work from home. I have a home office, a home gym, and this is my sitting area. I started painting again, so there's also a studio."

"Sounds wonderful," he said quietly.

She nodded, "It is. Also, in my office is the option to have JARVIS keep me in the loop with what's happening in the tower. As soon as you went off alone with Tony, he alerted me, and I have to confess I _ did _ eavesdrop on your conversation."

"How much did you hear?" Steve asked, folding his arm across his chest.

Pepper motioned him over to a small kitchen area. It wasn't large enough really for a big meal, but there seemed to be enough for beverages and mild snack preparation. He watched as she poured herself a cup of tea and asked, "Would you like some?"

Steve shook his head, "No, thank you."

Pepper nodded and stirred sugar into her tea, sipping it before she said, "And the answer to your question is that I listened to the entirety of it. I apologize for the invasion of privacy, but once an argument with Tony gets started, he can...how to put this politely? Misremember how it went."

Steve didn't say anything, just stared at his feet, his throat tightening as he whispered, "So did you invite me here to kick me out?"

"No, I invited you here to make sure you're okay."

Steve glanced up, his brow furrowed. Uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets, Steve shrugged and admitted, "I don't know how I am. I knew it wasn't going to be easy to tell him, but I was hoping he'd understand at least a little bit. And I do want to try to get along with Tony. I thought I saw something in him after the battle against Loki, something that meant we could be friends."

"He was really worried about you with everything that happened in DC. When he found out that you'd been declared a _ fugitive_, he just couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. He thought it was insane that agents were being ordered to hunt you down. And then he saw you get arrested. He saw so many guns pointed at you, and I don't think he meant for me to hear, but I heard him whisper, 'Oh God, they're going to kill him.' He almost went there in his suit to get you. Rhodey convinced him not to, convinced him it would be a bad idea to show up in the Iron Man suit during a SHIELD arrest."

"They were going to kill me if the news helicopter hadn't shown up," Steve admitted. Pepper inhaled sharply, and Steve smiled weakly. "I found out who the reporters were a few months ago. Sent them some of those edible arrangements and also gave them permission to call me if they ever want a quote on a story that involves me. Sent in an anonymous donation to their work. Figured it was the least I could do since they prevented me from getting executed in the middle of the street. They had to change the plan. They put all of us into that armored vehicle and drove us to a more secluded place to kill all of us."

"By the time he realized what was going on in DC with the helicarriers, they were already crashing into the Potomac. Otherwise he would have gone."

"He wouldn't have gotten there in time even if he'd known the second they'd launched," Steve insisted.

"I told him that," Pepper admitted. "He checked up on you when you were in the hospital, made sure you were getting the care you needed. I think he bothered more than a few people making sure your security was good enough."

"I don't want to have to fight him," Steve said carefully, looking into Pepper's eyes.

"What makes you think you'll have to fight him?"

"If he goes after Bucky or Vivian, I won't have a choice. I won't let him hurt them."

Pepper frowned, "Did anyone know that it wasn't just Bucky and Vivian together?"

Steve sighed, "Bucky's sisters knew, but we didn't talk about it until recently. Howling Commandos suspected because of me and Buck. Peggy had an idea because of the same reason. I think my mother knew, but it wasn't something we ever talked about before she died. Howard Stark knew about me and Buck, but I don't know if he knew it'd been with Vivian too. Maybe he suspected something. I don't know. Viv was gone by the time Howard met Bucky."

"That story you told about her being tortured, was it--"

"It's all true and I didn't even get through a tenth of the torture she suffered. There's just thousands of pages of details about her torture. They removed limbs over and over again. They performed surgeries on her without anesthesia or anything. She was just awake and could feel it all. They electrocuted her. They froze her. They burned her. They--" Steve broke off with a sob.

Pepper looked startled and she started to move toward him, but stopped. Steve felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he forced himself to continue speaking, his voice like shattered glass, "They broke her mind. They locked her in solitary confinement for _ so long _ that she just started hallucinating. It doesn't say what she hallucinated, but she babbled to herself and at one point just took a knife and carved her own arm open."

Steve found he couldn't stop and he fell to his knees as he gasped, "God, they told her I was alive. They told her I'd been found. They told her that I was going to be a puppet of Hydra, that they could recruit me, and do you know what she did?"

Pepper shook her head, her own eyes glassy and her hand pressed tight to her mouth. Steve laughed bitterly as he said, "She laughed in Pierce's face. _ She laughed in that monster's face _ . She told them that I would be the end of Hydra. She told that monster to his face that she still believed in me, that she'd _ always _ believed in me and that she always would. He shot her in the back over that. The bullet severed her spinal cord and they just _ left her in her room to heal on her own_."

Steve laughed wetly, "I lost count of the amount of times they just burned Bucky's soul right out of him. Just beat him and electrocuted him until nothing but flesh and bone were left. No name, no identity. Just a weapon, because that's all they wanted from him. They didn't want a man. They wanted a machine."

Pepper walked closer and Steve squeezed his eyes shut as she pulled him into a tight hug. Burying his face in Pepper's shoulder, he gave a shuddering sigh as she rubbed his back and whispered through tears, "I'll talk to Tony. He's upset right now, but give him time and he'll understand. Right now you just need to give him some space, but promise me you won't leave."

"I promise," Steve whispered.

Pepper pulled back and gently wiped the tears off his face. Steve smiled weakly as she smiled, "There, much better. Now go get something to drink, get something to eat, and maybe get some rest, okay?"

Steve nodded, "Thank you, Pepper, for all of this."

Pepper smiled and gently patted his cheek before pulling away and smiling, "Walk me to the elevator?"

Steve nodded and smiled, taking her arm in his as they walked to the elevator. They didn't speak until they got to Steve's floor, but once they did, Pepper turned to him and smiled, "When you do work out instead of letting yourself get some rest, try not to be too hard on yourself."

Steve blushed bright red and muttered an apology, much to Pepper's delight. Her laughter followed him until the doors to the elevator closed. Unfortunately Pepper _ was _ right and the first place he headed was the punching bag.

Old habits die hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continued adventures of Clint the Absolute Goddamn Disaster are my favorite things to write.
> 
> Also, I do love Pepper Potts, even though I don't like Gwyneth Paltrow whatsoever. The woman is an actual snakeoil saleswoman and she's a danger to the community. Don't support her products. Don't watch her shows. She has no idea what she's talking about.


	35. Thirty-Five: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst, injury, blood, children in captivity

Steve frowned as he stared at his phone. It'd been a few weeks since he'd last spoken to Tony. Steve had stayed out of his way just like Pepper had asked. He stayed on his own floor and had Jarvis guide him out of the building for takedowns of Hydra. Fortunately, Sam and Clint didn't need to avoid Tony. Natasha just flat out refused to avoid Tony regardless. And now, out of nowhere, he had a text from Tony.

_ You owe me big time. _

"Technology has come so far since you were frozen back before the continents divided, but phones can't actually read your mind yet."

"Funny," Steve said, glancing up at Natasha as she strolled over. He smiled at her and sighed when she held out her hand. Handing it over, he watched as she read the text. "So what does it mean?" he asked nervously.

"It means you need to go talk to him."

"He threw a glass at me and told me to get out."

"Could have been worse. Could have used a suit and shot at you," Natasha said. Steve winced and Natasha sighed, "Steve, I was kidding. He shouldn't have done that. He definitely owes you an apology for that, but he did text you, so he is going to talk to you."

"All it says is that I owe him big time."

"God, you really don't understand Tony, do you?" Natasha groaned. "No wonder you two butt heads."

"Natasha."

"Fine, fine. Listen, you have to understand that Anthony Stark is your typical rich boy. He didn't get enough love from his parents, has some trauma, and because of how he grew up, he can be kind of self-absorbed about it. However, he does _ want _ to be good."

Steve frowned and glanced over, "Okay, but what does this text mean?"

"It means he's ready to talk, but he's up to his eyeballs in toxic rich boy bullshit so he can't just say it."

Steve sighed, "Right." Natasha stared at him pointedly and Steve nodded, "Fine, I'll go up now."

"That's the spirit."

Rolling his eyes, Steve paused, but then paused and turned toward her, "You're doing okay, right?"

Natasha laughed, "I've been essentially on vacation for the past few months and the biggest disaster I've had to deal with is Clint. I'm doing great, Steve, now stop stalling."

Steve nodded and headed onto the elevator, leaning against the wall before he asked, "Hey Jarvis, can you take me to Tony?"

"Of course, Captain."

Steve sighed at that, but nodded, surprised when the elevator didn't take him to the bar he'd met with Tony in before. Instead when the doors opened, he found himself in an expansive lab. Robots moved around and there was just gear and suits everywhere. Tony himself was in a corner, t-shirt covered in grease as he carefully fiddled with the wires of some gadget in front of him.

"In or out, Cap."

Heading in, Steve said, "I got your text."

"I'm aware."

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he asked, "Tony, why did you text me?"

Tony set the gadget down and stood up. Steve frowned as Tony held up a black case and asked "Do you know what this is?"

Steve shook his head, "No idea."

"Really? Not a clue?"

"Tony, this is your lab. You have dozens of things down here. I wouldn't be able to even begin to guess," Steve said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Tony rolled his eyes, "These aren't mine." He then shook the case and a loud rattling sound happened. Steve stared blankly, and Tony sighed. "God, you're bad at this. I checked your story."

Steve felt like ice water had been poured down his back. His hands clenched at his sides and he whispered, "You got the flash drives. How did you find them?"

"Simple, I asked Jarvis. Surprised you didn't." Steve folded his arms across his chest, but then Tony laughed, "Oh. You did ask, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Barton tell Jarvis not to tell you?" Steve nodded and Tony scoffed, "He's smarter than he looks, I'll give him that."

Steve stared at Tony as he said, "Have you considered maybe showing Clint a little bit more respect? He's a good agent and an even better man."

"I saw him drink straight out of a coffee pot and then nearly fall onto his face."

"And there's a video of you so drunk that you crashed your own party wearing an Iron Man suit before pissing yourself and then challenging Colonel Rhodes to a fight. I'm not sure you get to judge Clint because he's clumsy and has weird coffee habits."

"Where did you even find that video?"

"There's at least twelve copies of it on youtube alone. There's an entire subreddit dedicated to it."

Tony sputtered and gaped, "_Who the fuck taught you about reddit_? Was it Clint? I bet it was Clint."

"It was Natasha," Steve said with a shrug, causing Tony to become even more horrified. "Clint doesn't go near reddit, but none of that matters. You have the footage. You saw what Bucky and Vivian went through. Hell, only part of what they went through."

Tony frowned and set the case down. He then sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I saw it. Uploaded it into Jarvis and had him analyze all of it. He told me what he thought of it all."

"And what was that?"

Tony ignored the question, "And then after that I started looking for Barnes and Peshkova. Couldn't find Barnes. I found Peshkova."

Steve swallowed hard, his hands clenched into fists and he shoved them into his pockets, "Did you go after her?"

Tony shook his head, "Seems she's turned over a new leaf. Joined a whole new group. Started using her powers to rescue people. I think the worst she's given someone since she joined the group a few days after getting herself free was a concussion. Her teammates are another story, but they're loaded weapons, so it's understandable."

"Tony who did she join?" Steve asked, feeling more than a little desperate.

"God, all that enhancement and you're still an idiot," Tony scoffed. "The _ X-Men_. Who the hell else would she have joined?"

Steve sighed with relief, rubbing a hand over his face before he reminded Tony, "There's at least three different mutant organizations active in the world right now. And beyond that, there's dozens of vigilantes she could have teamed up with. New York's now got a guy they're calling Daredevil. SHIELD said they were done, but apparently they're almost as bad as Hydra is when it comes to _ not staying dead_."

Tony rolled his eyes and nodded, "Well, that we can agree with. Apparently even Coulson isn't really dead."

Steve frowned, "What? But Loki killed him."

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed to the wall where an image of Coulson popped up, "Apparently they did a whole bunch of questionable surgery and pumped him full of some shit no one's ever heard of before and it healed a perforated heart. Oh, and apparently they had some insane machine that rewrote his goddamn brain."

"Jesus Christ," Steve whispered.

"Good news is that the machine that did that apparently got buried under an entire mountain."

"Good," Steve said and then shook his head, "How did you even find out about this?"

"A few weeks before Hydra popped their heads out, Coulson's file stopped being classified as 'director only'. And then it ended up being one of the files suddenly with all the clearance in the world when Romanoff flooded the internet."

"Thank you, Tony."

"Yeah, sure, none of that's what I texted you for."

Steve frowned and Tony shrugged, "X-Men extended an offer to team up. Something about a secure facility being used to hold mutants hostage. They want your team's help."

"Do you want to--"

"Just because I'm trying to get over my desire to turn your girlfriend into a bonfire and then cook s'mores over her doesn't mean I want to team up with her either."

"Thank you, Tony."

Tony nodded and then shrugged, "Jarvis has their number. Call them and they'll tell you where to go or whatever. Just don't involve me." Steve turned to leave, but then paused when Tony said, "I...shouldn't have thrown a glass at you." For a moment they both just stood there, and then Steve's eyes widened as Tony quietly said, "I'm sorry."

Steve smiled softly, "Apology accepted, Tony."

Tony nodded and went back to tinkering with things, so Steve left the lab. Shaking his head, he pulled out his phone and was about to ask when Jarvis said, "I've taken the liberty of adding the number to your phone. You should find it under 'Jean Grey'."

"Thanks, Jarvis," Steve said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Captain."

Steve headed to the floor that Sam, Clint, and Natasha usually hung out on, nearly bursting through the door as he ran in. Immediately all three of them stared and Clint asked, "So what'd Stark want?"

"He found her," Steve grinned. Immediately all three were surprised and Steve shook his head, "She joined the X-Men and all I have to do is call this number. They want to team up with us to take out a Hydra facility."

"Then what are you waiting for, man? Call the number," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

Steve pressed on the number and held the phone up to his ear. He paced, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room, until a voice picked up and answered, "Hello."

"Hey, this is Steve Rogers. I was told this was Jean Grey's number?"

"Yeah, that's me. Thank you for returning my call, Steve. Were you told about the offer?"

"Yes, and I want to help. _ We _ want to help. Just tell us where to go and when to be there."

"Are you available to do this today?"

Steve glanced over at the group, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder before he signed the question to all three of them. All three nodded, and Clint gave a thumbs up.

Sighing with relief, Steve said, "Yes. We're available."

"Great. Would you rather travel here on your own or would you want one of us to pick you up?"

"Pick us up? What do you mean?"

"One of our people teleports."

Steve's eyes widened and he glanced at the trio, signing while asking out loud, "Do you guys want to teleport?"

For a moment there was nothing, but then Clint shouted, "_ Yes _!"

Steve smiled as Jean said, "Okay, text us when you're ready. Also, it'd be helpful if you were on one of the roofs or if you sent a picture of the place you want to be picked up from."

"Done. We'll see you soon."

The call ended and immediately all four rushed to get ready. Steve got dressed and grabbed his shield faster than he ever had before. Once he was done, he gathered everyone on the roof and texted Jean.

"So, you seem calm," Natasha joked.

Steve sent her a glare, but then they all jumped as there was a small popping sound followed by an _ extremely blue _ man appearing in front of them. He had a tail.

"Come, come," he said, holding out his hands. "My name is Kurt. Jean sent me to come get you."

Cautiously taking one of his hands, Steve then took Sam's hand in his other. Sam looked reluctant, nodded and took Clint's hand in his. The final link in the chain was Natasha standing between Clint and Kurt. Once they all had joined hands, there was a pop and then an odd sensation. The next thing Steve knew, he was standing in a hanger next to a plane. He stumbled slightly, but righted himself before he could fall over entirely.

"First time you teleport is always a little disorienting, but you'll be okay. I recommend a drink of water and deep breathing. Good news is that it'll be a bit before you have to go through it again."

Steve blinked back tears, feeling like his heart was in his throat as he heard that voice. For a moment he couldn't move, could barely breathe, and he wondered how he was going to make himself just _ look at her_. Turning around felt like he was back to being that uncoordinated scrawny kid again, and then his knees nearly buckled as he saw her.

"_Vivian_," Steve whispered, near breathless.

Vivian nodded, her own eyes glassy. Her eyes were the same startling shade of blue that he remembered and her lips were a deep red he'd never been able to see before in person. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Hey, you gonna just stare at her or what?" Sam whispered to him, chuckling and then nudging him forward.

Steve nearly stumbled yet again, but then found his footing and immediately rushed over, pulling Vivian into his arms and pressing his face against her neck. Her arms wrapped around him tightly and then he did fall to his knees, breathing her in as he choked out, "God, Viv, you're really here. _ You're really here_."

"God, what about you?_ I thought I'd never see you again_."

Steve pulled back and gently cupped Vivian's face in his hands, staring into her eyes before he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "I'm so sorry. _ I'm so sorry_."

"Hey, look at me," Vivian whispered, a frown on her face. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I _ didn't_\--I _ couldn't_\--I _ should have saved you_."

Vivian ran her long fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as she whispered, "You listen to me and you listen good, okay? That was _ never your fault_. You had no way of knowing what I was, what I am, and you can't begin to know how proud I am of you."

"I read what they did to you. _ I saw_\--"

"I'm okay now and I'm getting healthy. The X-Men have been helping me."

Steve winced, "I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to--"

She shook her head, "That's not what I meant. That wasn't to shame you. I wanted to be better, be healthier before I came back to you, but being with you was always the goal. It's still the goal. If you still want--"

Steve kissed her, cutting her off and he smiled when she kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, but then they both paused as Natasha cleared her throat and announced, "As much as everyone is enjoying this picturesque reunion, we do still have a job to do."

Steve stood up, smiling sheepishly, but then blushed as Vivian stood on her tiptoes (and _ that _ was an odd experience after spending so long being eye to eye with her) to rub her thumb against his bottom lip. He wiped at his mouth, but then moved in as Jean rolled her eyes, "Right. The building we'll be infiltrating is the largest Hydra compound left on the east coast. Storm and Scott will be on the outside of the building preventing any reinforcements and interfering with calls to the outside."

"I can help with that," Hawkeye admitted. "It's a big building, and that blueprint looks like it's got multiple entrances."

Jean nodded, "Right, you and Scott can discuss who takes what. We'd appreciate it if Romanoff helped get us into the building without setting off the alarms."

Natasha nodded, "I can definitely do that."

Jean sighed, "Good, because after that, you and I will be taking over the control room. If at all possible, we need to keep security from being alerted. I can relay information to everyone as long as I have permission to reach out to you telepathically. I promise that it will only be to give you information, not to pry into your personal thoughts or feelings."

Everyone nodded, and Jean smiled, "Great. Sam, I want you to go with Logan and Gambit to keep security occupied and away from the area where the hostages are."

"How come Steve's not part of that team?" Sam asked curiously.

Steve had been wondering the same thing, but then understood, although was a smidge embarrassed, as Jean smiled, "Steve's not part of that team because Vivian, Rogue, and Nightcrawler are going to be helping out hostages while this is going on. Steve will be accompanying them and making sure neither they nor the hostages are harmed."

Steve nodded, "Understood."

"All right. Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads, and then they started heading toward the jet. A woman with dark brown hair streaked with white came over and winked at Vivian. Vivian groaned, "Don't give me that look, Rogue."

"What? It was a perfectly normal look!"

Vivian scoffed, "Sure. Right."

Steve glanced between them, but then smiled when Vivian grinned, "Rogue, this is--"

"Steve Rogers, the love of your life, the man you haven't shut up about in months, and also one of the most famous American icons? Yeah, I'm aware of who he is," Rogue drawled teasingly.

Vivian looked unimpressed, "It was an introduction, smartass." Steve grinned widely as Vivian then turned to him and shook her head, "Anyway, Steve, this is Rogue. She's somehow my friend despite being a brat, and also her power is in her skin, so just don't touch her."

"Nice to meet you, Rogue," Steve said, stifling his laughter.

Rogue grinned and held out a gloved hand, "Nice to meet you too, and I have you know that I'm the best friend she's ever had."

Steve shook her hand and then chuckled when Vivian rolled her eyes, "After this mission, you have to see Charles about these delusions, they're not healthy."

Kurt appeared out of thin air and Steve jumped slightly, but smiled when Vivian grinned, "Steve, you've already met Nightcrawler."

"Are we going to teleport to where the hostages are?" Steve asked curiously.

Vivian shook her head, but Kurt was the one to explain, "I do not know what the area looks like. If I try to teleport without being able to see it, things can go very badly. I do not want to risk it."

"It's why you had to either go to the roof or take a picture. Satellites know what that building's rooftop looks like, so those are standard entries," Vivian said with a shrug.

Steve nodded and headed onto the jet, strapping himself in next to Vivian. Part of him still couldn't believe this was even happening, that he was right there with her. Her hand slipped into his and he smiled, breathing deep breaths as the jet took off. It seemed faster than the planes that SHIELD had, but when he turned to ask to ask Vivian, he found he couldn't ask her anything. She was staring at their hands, just _ smiling _, and he found that he could only watch her and smile as well. It all felt like a dream. She was there. She was within his grasp and he was going to be able to actually protect her this time. She glanced up into his eyes and blushed. Leaning close, Steve pressed a small kiss to her cheek.

"Hey, lovebirds, cut it out."

"Shut up, Logan," Vivian called out with a laugh.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to your father?" Rogue teased.

Steve immediately felt his cheeks become inflamed and he whispered, "Wolverine is your _ dad_?"

Vivian winced, "Yeah, sorry. Forgot to mention that. Mom was unfortunately Madame Hydra, but she's dead. I killed her. Logan is my dad. We're friends, I guess. And also he's really hard to kill."

"I heard that," Logan called over.

"You were meant to," Vivian retorted with a smirk.

Steve frowned, thinking about what Vivian had said. He remembered reading about her being related to Madame Hydra. It didn't make him think less of Viv, but it just felt like another injustice stacked up against her in her life. Before he could ask about it, the plane was landing. Everyone got into their groups and the smirk slid off Vivian's face as she looked so _ serious _. They waited near the plane as one by one the other groups went forward.

_ Come through the side entrance and take the hallway down. _

Steve winced at the feeling of someone in his mind, but pulled his shield off of his back and held it on his arm as they moved forward. Vivian moved ahead of them, quick and nearly silent. The way she moved reminded him, in fact, a lot of how Natasha moved. Keeping up with her while staying silent was tricky. Rogue followed a little bit after him and then Kurt took up the rear.

For a little while, Steve wondered if Vivian had just called him in just for an excuse to see him when gunfire broke out. Rushing forward, Steve threw his shield, letting it bounce and take out one of the gunmen. He then caught the shield and flipped forward, punching the next gunman in the face. He'd thrown his shield at a gunman down the hall when he found himself staring down a barrel. Before the agent could pull the trigger, his body slammed up into the ceiling and then down onto the floor and Vivian walked over. She looked angrier than she'd ever looked as she snapped, "Cowardly piece of shit."

"Viv, you okay?" Steve asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Vivian sighed. "Just annoyed. I hate these guys. Besides, you were the one who was almost shot."

Steve caught his shield and stood next to Vivian, placing a hand on the small of her back as he reassured her, "I'm okay. Thank you."

She nodded, but then sighed, "You should probably take the lead."

Her hands were shaking, and he nodded, reaching down and squeezing her hand before he took her place in front of the line. He'd have to ask about that when the job was done. The next few intersections had minor confrontations, but nothing like that first one. Just a few stragglers here and there. Most of those he only had to throw his shield once. It was once they reached a heavily locked door that Vivian came to the front again and peered through a small window on the door and asked, "Kurt, is this enough of a view for you to go in and unlock the door?"

Kurt squeezed past and looked through before nodding. He then disappeared and a few moments later, the door unlocked. Heading into the hallway, Steve frowned at the dozens of padlocked doors. Vivian was glaring, looking furious and she made a quick motion with her arm while gritting her teeth. The door she was near screeched, ripping straight out of the wall before it slammed into the opposite wall. Turning and knocking a lock off with his shield, he opened up his door and felt _ angry _ when he saw the occupants were a couple of scared kids. Dropping down to a crouch, Steve held up both his hands and gently said, "It's okay. We're here to get you out of here."

Both kids ran to him and he gently led them out of the room. A good half dozen other kids were there, some with adults, but others just on their own like the two he'd found. Kurt motioned the kids over and Steve nodded, "It's okay. He's nice. He can get you somewhere safe."

The two girls looked uncertain, but slowly but surely went to Kurt. Steve shared a glance with Vivian, but then kept unlocking doors and getting kids out. Kurt was taking them in small groups. Kurt was staying away for a bit each time, and after he got all the people out of the rooms, Steve headed to Vivian's side and asked, "What's taking him?"

Vivian glanced over at the kids before she admitted, "He's probably making sure they handle the teleport well, and also making sure the people at the school can handle looking after them before he leaves. It's going to take Hank and Charles ages to get these kids sorted. Some of them have parents they have to be returned to, some were with their parents, and some have parents who are dead or in prison. It's a mess."

Steve nodded, and then glanced over at Rogue who was crouched near some kids and smiling at them. Sometimes a younger kid would try to touch her face, but she'd always gently redirect them with jokes or just by gently taking their hand. He then turned and looked at Vivian, frowning as he saw that she looked lost. She almost looked pained.

"Are you okay, Viv?"

Vivian shrugged and sighed, "These kids are going to have a hard time. I don't know what all Hydra did to them, but...whatever it is wasn't good."

"They've got a lot of people that are going to help them."

Viv nodded, "I know. I just wish they hadn't gone through it at all."

Steve wrapped an arm around Vivian's waist, pulling her close as he quietly said, "I wish you hadn't gone through the things you went through either, but I am glad you're here with me."

Vivian smiled, "Yeah, I'm glad about that too."

Steve turned back and watched as Kurt kept coming back for the kids. Once Kurt was about to leave with the last batch, Steve was surprised when Vivian nodded, "Stay with the kids, if possible. They're going to need a lot of help with them back at the mansion."

Kurt nodded and disappeared, the last of the kids in tow. Rogue glanced over at them before she asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We just sent dozens of traumatized kids to the mansion when a good chunk of the adults are gone," Vivian pointed out. "They need the help more than we do. Besides, at this point, all we need to do is just leave."

Rogue nodded and headed back into the hallway. Steve walked with Vivian, his arm still around her. He was about to ask her what was going to happen next when the sound of a gunshot sent Vivian _ running_. Following after her, Steve felt his heart race as he saw Rogue on the ground. Her eyes were wide and her hand was pressed to her throat, blood dripping between her gloves as she gasped and choked. A Hydra agent stood nearby, his gun raised.

"_Marie_!" Vivian screamed, rushing to Rogue's side and dropping to her knees. The agent took aim again, and Steve was about to fling his shield, but then Vivian held out her hand and twisted it to the side. The man's head snapped to the side, sounding nearly like another gunshot in the quiet hallway, and he collapsed to the ground.

_ Help will be with you in five minutes_.

"God damn it, Jean, Rogue doesn't _ have _ five minutes," Vivian snapped at the ceiling. Steve flinched, but then gaped as Vivian cursed under her breath before turning toward him, "I'm going to ask you to do something that you're going to absolutely hate."

"What is it?" Steve asked, kneeling by her carefully.

"I'm gonna take off my gloves and I'm going to touch her face," Vivian said.

Rogue gasped and sputtered, shaking her head, but Vivian sighed, "Shut the fuck up, Rogue, there really isn't any other option. If we put this off for even another minute, you will be dead, and I won't allow that. I can't allow it. So Steve, I'm going to touch her face. Hopefully she'll heal up in time and can pull away herself, but otherwise, if I start to seize, pull me off of her."

"_What_?" Steve gaped, but Vivian was already pulling off her glove.

Vivian pulled Rogue's hand off of her throat, replacing it with her own bare hand, and cupped Rogue's face with the other. The effect was immediate. Her skin tightened, every single vein and artery so obvious that they looked like they were going to burst through the skin. Vivian gasped, her back arching and her eyes went out of focus. Steve watched frantically, not sure of what to do.

The blood stopped dripping from between Vivian's fingers and he almost sighed with relief, but then he heard a wet cough. Steve glanced up and shook his head as he saw Vivian's face. Blood dripped from her nose and her eyes. When she coughed, blood dripped from her lips.

"_Oh God_," Steve choked out, reaching for Vivian, but she wouldn't budge. "Viv, you gotta let go."

"_Not yet_," Vivian hissed through bloody teeth. "Her...her neck isn't healed."

"_Viv_," Steve begged. "Viv, let go."

Vivian gave a wet gasp and Steve grabbed her shoulders as her hand slipped from Rogue's throat. Blood smeared, but Steve could see that the wound was no longer there. Pulling Vivian away, he blinked back tears as Vivian's eyes rolled back and her body just _ spasmed _.

He heard a distant scream for help, felt the sound get ripped from his throat as he carefully lay Vivian on her side. Pushing her hair out of her face, Steve's vision became blurry and unfocused as he whispered, "It's okay. I've got you. Viv, I've got you."

Vivian's body went limp and Steve sobbed, pulling her up into his arms. Gently pushing back her hair, Steve pressed a kiss to her forehead and pleaded against her skin, "It's okay. You're okay. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Just wake up."

He could hear thudding footsteps, and glanced up, wincing as Logan barked, "What the fuck happened here?"

"Rogue went ahead," Steve said weakly. "I got distracted. I should have been the one to go first, but then there was a gunshot, and Rogue was on the ground. Vivian said Rogue wasn't going to survive waiting for help, so she--"

Logan groaned and tilted his head back, "Jesus Christ, Kid, of all the fucking things to inherit from me."

"Is she going to be okay?" Steve asked, feeling weaker and more helpless than he ever had before the serum.

Logan sighed and crouched down. He stared at Rogue and then Vivian for a second before he said, "She fucked up her internal organs pretty good if she was hemorrhaging like that. She'll be out of commission for a few days. I mean, she'll probably try to say she's fine sooner, but ignore her."

Steve laughed weakly, "I tend to have the same problem."

Logan snorted, "No surprise there. I'll get the professor to set you up a space in the mansion."

"You're going to let me stay there?"

Logan gave him a scathing look as he retorted, "If we don't, we'll have to deal with Vivian proving just how much of my 'hardheaded asshole' gene she inherited when she breaks herself out and hitchhikes to Manhattan just to see you."

Steve chuckled, but then frowned as he looked at Vivian's face. She'd stopped bleeding, but her face was still splattered with it. Shaking his head, he whispered, "God, I've been back in her life less than a day and I've already nearly gotten her killed."

"Jesus Christ," Logan whispered. Glancing over at Logan, Steve frowned as Logan asked, "You're not going to disappear on her, are you?"

"_What _ ? Why would I do that? _ I just got her back_."

Logan held up his hands, "Just seems like something someone says before they run is all."

"I wouldn't do that to her," Steve insisted, feeling nauseous just thinking about the idea. Gently raking his fingers through Vivian's hair, he stared at her pale face before he whispered, "God, if I'd known there was even a chance she'd been still out there during the war, I would have searched every single goddamn inch of Europe for her. If I'd known she was alive when I woke up, I would have dedicated my life to getting her back."

"Good, because she believes in you," Logan said. Steve glanced up and nodded as Logan continued, "She never once doubted you. Not for a second. That's rare. That's a gift. Don't throw it away."

The air filled with a popping sound, and Steve nodded as Kurt showed up only to give a low cry of pain, "Oh no, what happened?"

Steve opened his mouth to answer, to say something, but Logan beat him to it, "Rogue caught a stray bullet. Vivian the martyr over there decided to heal her." Logan then picked up Rogue in his arms and asked, "Rogers, can you stand with her?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Steve said, holding Vivian close and standing up. He could feel and hear her breathing. Unfortunately, that meant he could hear the rasp and the hitch to every breath. Kurt put a hand on both Steve and Logan. Steve closed his eyes and he felt a rushing feeling through him. Everything felt like it was slipping away from him in all directions and then he felt himself lurch. He opened his eyes and he nearly stumbled as he glanced around. They were in a different area.

A large man covered in blue skin and hair rushed over. He had a small pair of glasses perched on his nose and he wore a lab coat. He motioned to a bed and sighed, "Set her down here."

Steve did as he was told, watching nervously as Vivian's eyes were forced open and a flashlight shone on them. Steve could see that the blood vessels had burst. He frowned as the doctor asked, "How long did she heal Rogue for?"

"Viv--" Steve cleared his throat and tried again, "Viv said Rogue wasn't going to survive without it. Insisted on healing her. She said I should pull her away if she started seizing. I pulled her away before then. I pulled her away as soon as I saw the wound disappear on Rogue, but she started seizing. She was holding on for close to three minutes."

"And she will be alright," a voice said. Steve turned toward the voice and watched what could only be Professor X move over to the side of Vivian's bed.

"Are you sure?" Steve whispered.

Professor X smiled, "Yes. She's resting and her recovery will take a few days, but she'll be conscious by morning. Dr. Hank McCoy is one of the most brilliant minds in the country."

Hank looked sheepish and chuckled, "Thank you, Charles, but even I'm not sure I can make this one rest once she awakens."

Steve gently pushed a strand of hair out of Vivian's face, brushing his fingertips along her cheek as he admitted with a frown, "Usually this was the other way around. She'd be the one making me rest." He then glanced over at Charles, "Can I stay with her?"

Charles smiled, "Of course. You're free to stay with her for as long as she wishes for you to do so. However, you should give your teammates a call to let them know that this is your plan."

"They knew I wanted to stay with her."

"Yes, but they'll want to know from you that you actually are. Your friends, for understandable reasons, aren't the most trustworthy group, and don't seem content just getting this information from Jean."

Steve sighed and pulled out his phone. He wouldn't tell this to Stark unless his life depended upon it, but the phone the man had created actually was really good. Bare minimum, it managed to hold up in his pockets while he was on a mission, which no other phone was able to do. Turning the phone back on, he winced as he saw just how many texts and missed calls he had. Charles was right. Choosing Sam, Steve put the phone to his ear. It barely rang before Sam answered and demanded, "Steve?"

"Hey, Sam."

"Don't 'hey, Sam' me, man. Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm at the mansion. Viv and Rogue got hurt, so Kurt teleported us over."

"Are you sure you should be there? Maybe you should come back, think this through."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Steve, c'mon, be reasonable--"

"Damn it, Sam," Steve snapped, his energy waning and his control splintering. "You asked me once what makes me happy. Do you remember that? Do you remember asking me that?"

Steve heard Charles leave the room to give him privacy, but then focused as Sam sighed, "Yes."

"The answer I couldn't give you then, but can give you now is that it's them. It's Buck and it's Viv. They're my whole goddamn world." Steve rubbed at his eyes as he choked out, "Sam, if Riley was alive, but hurt in this goddamn room, where would you be and how long would it take you to decide to be there?"

"I'd be with him in a second," Sam whispered. He then heaved a sigh before he said, "All right, Steve, I hear you. I'll tell the others what's going on."

"Thank you, Sam."

"Yeah, yeah. Go be with your girl."

Steve laughed weakly and said goodbye, hanging up the phone after Sam did as well. Pocketing his phone, he then moved closer and took Vivian's hand into both of his, bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles as he whispered, "I'm sorry it took me so long to come home, but I promise it won't happen again. I'm not going anywhere and _ I love you_. I love you so much that sometimes it's just hard to breathe when I think about it, and I'm so sorry if I didn't show that. I'm sorry if for _ one single second _ you ever thought you weren't my goddamn heart. You and Buck, you're equal. You're my heart and soul. You gotta know that. You've gotta know I'd walk through Hell for you."

Leaning close, Steve pressed a soft kiss to her lips and smiled, "And I'll keep telling it to you until you believe it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to AlastorsBambi (AkaraSoma) and Alyrockyforever 'cause y'all were dying for a reunion and I had to stop myself from being like 'next week it's happening'.
> 
> Hopefully this didn't seem too rushed. I thought about having Viv have a mission with the X-Men before this mission, but I decided ultimately (and also with input from sagerosemaryandtime) that going to this would be fine. Also, I just really, really wanted Steve/Viv back together.


	36. Thirty-Six: 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: discussions of politics about the military and the US government as well as US interventionism. It's not discussed favorably.
> 
> Sorry, there's not really a more concise way to write tha. Just putting 'politics' doesn't tell you much.
> 
> Also, angst. There's angst
> 
> Also, I discuss part of the movie Wolverine, but not all of that movie is canon in this fic, so you don't like, actually have to watch that. I wouldn't, in fact. It's a bad movie. For example, I for sure don't have that Deadpool or that Gambit as canon. Man, they were bad. There's also a blink and you miss it reference to X2. That one is a pretty fun movie.
> 
> Also, this is the last chapter of 2014

"Is this really necessary, Tony?"

Vivian snorted and stared up at the ceiling at Steve's question. She loved Steve with all her heart, but she did also find it hilarious that he asked that when he'd clearly meant 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' Not that she blamed him. Steve had set up a meeting with Tony after she'd recovered enough to leave the mansion. Tony had agreed to the meeting and had shown up wearing an Iron Man suit while accompanied by Pepper Potts, Colonel Rhodes, and Happy Hogan.

Natasha and Clint were lounged in a corner, watching the whole thing like it was a show. Clint, the bastard, had even brought a big gulp soda and a large bucket of popcorn.

Tony scoffed and the faceplate of his suit slid up as he bit out, "Is it _ necessary_? You're asking me if I want to let a war criminal live in my house, Rogers!"

"She's not a war criminal, and it's actually Pepper's house," Steve pointed out. "You put her in charge of this place, so it's ultimately up to her who lives here. Besides, you said you were going to try."

"Also, pot, kettle," Vivian said, motioning at Tony and then herself.

Steve, Rhodes, Pepper, and Happy all gave huge sighs at that. Steve even sent her a pleading look. Tony sputtered indignantly and Clint guffawed so hard that he actually started to choke on his popcorn. Luckily Natasha gave him a few hard smacks to the back and he was fine.

"Did you just call me a war criminal?" Tony snapped.

"Yes," Vivian said, staring him down.

Before Tony could say something, Steve sent them both stares and raised his voice as he said, "We all know it's not that simple."

"Except it _ is_ that simple. She killed people!"

"And you supplied the weapons for multiple overseas conflicts."

The entire room went dead silent, some looking like they were practically holding their breath. Tony looked enraged, his hands clenched into fists as he snarled, "I only ever sold to the US government! And I stopped doing that! Not that it seems to matter to you, but Stark Industries hasn't been in the weapons business for _ years_."

Vivian laughed loudly, throwing her head back before she cooed, "Aw, good for you, but what the fuck do you think our government was doing with them before? Do you think they were tickling our enemies with those weapons? Did you honestly think you didn't kill any soldiers or civilians with your super impressive missiles that the United States’ government paid you for? Let's face it, we both killed people. Difference is, you never actually had to watch them die.”

Tony shook his head, his skin going pale, "That's not true. That's not fair. I didn't--"

"Oh fuck you," Vivian snapped. "You don't actually care that I killed people. If you did, then Hawkeye and Black Widow, _ two other assassins_, one of whom I actually trained, wouldn't be on your super special squad. Hell, if you cared about death counts at all, you wouldn't be friends with Colonel Rhodes. You wouldn't let Steve in this goddamn building. You'd have a lot more conflict about your girlfriend who _ incinerated people_. Maybe you would have even stopped yourself from bringing fiery hell upon people as Iron Man."

Vivian scoffed and continued, "No, you're not mad that I killed people. You're mad that I tricked you back in the 90's. You're mad that someone you saw as just some _ random desperate slut_ in a club managed to not just get one over on you, but change your entire fucking life. _ And we didn't even have sex_. Not even a hand job and _ I took everything from you_."

"That's not true," Tony whispered.

"Isn't it? After all, it's the only real thing you have to hold against me, and cards on the table? _ I am sorry about that_. I am _ sorry _ that I fucked you over. Hydra had been watching your house for _ weeks_. They'd been stalking _ you _ for weeks. And then, fifteen minutes before the mission began, I got told I needed to get that information because the Starks had to die. And so I did what I had to do to keep myself and one of the men I love alive. I got the information, but I threw a wrench into it."

Vivian took a deep breath before she continued, "Your mother had stayed behind with you after you'd fucked up in the past, and so I figured she would this time too. _ I really thought she'd stay behind _ and only Howard would die. I thought, 'Hey, Howard is really the only one Hydra really cares about killing, and they'll figure out a way to pacify Stane'. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. And God, I'm even sorry I got Howard killed. It wasn't my place to decide something like that, to _ play God _ like that, but I did it. I did it. I decided Bucky's life was ultimately worth more than Howard's. It was wrong. I'm sorry."

Vivian could hear Natasha and Clint slip out of the room, but she kept focused on Tony. Steve reached under the table and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. He laced his fingers with hers and just kept holding her hand, a steady force of support. Rhodes and Pepper exchanged a glance, but did nothing else. Happy looked like he was seconds away from barfing all over the table and running out. Finally after a minute, Tony did _ something _ to his suit and it popped open. He stepped out and sat heavily at the table before he said, "You ruined brunettes for me. And the name Veronica."

"But not the letter 'V' considering who you're dating," Vivian pointed out.

Tony scoffed, "Pepper Potts doesn't start with a 'V'."

As everyone else in the room sighed, sounding exhausted, Vivian leaned forward and fake whispered, "Her first name's Virginia, dipshit."

Steve coughed, hiding what sounded to be like a choked back laugh. After a moment, he sighed, "Tony, no one is going to make you do what you don't want to do. If you want us gone, then I'll pack up my things and we'll be out of your hair by the end of the day."

Tony glared, "But you are siding with her."

Vivian wasn't surprised when Steve didn't pause at all before he insisted, "Yes, I am. I am siding with Vivian and Bucky. I do believe that they are not responsible for the evils that Hydra committed. She apologized for the things she did while trying to save you. And I do believe she was trying to do her best in a terrible situation."

"She did make it seem like just working with the army was the same as her time as a Hydra agent though, Rogers," Rhodes pointed out.

Tony pointed toward Rhodes, "Rhodey's right. She did do that. She going to apologize for that?"

Steve glanced over at her and Vivian shook her head. Happy was just _ glaring_. Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and Tony hissed, "See?"

Vivian rolled her eyes and focused on Rhodes as she asked, "Does the name Colonel William Stryker mean anything to you?"

Rhodes nodded, "Yeah, he was kind of a legend. Rumor has it he was put in charge of a lot of projects by the DOJ. Why?"

"Because his project was mutants," Vivian said with a smile. Rhodes frowned and Vivian grinned, "He wasn't connected to Hydra. He had people on his task force that were Hydra without him knowing it, but his idea? His drive? That was all 100% good ol' patriotic initiative, oh and eventually hatred of his own son. He was given permission from the government to recruit mutants, the deadlier the better, and use them in clandestine missions. My father was one of them. You probably know him by the name Wolverine."

"Heard he's an animal," Rhodes supplied, still looking defensive.

"Sure, he's definitely that, but no more than the average person. He wanted to stop though. Wanted to just _ live his life_. Stryker wasn't happy about that, so he sent a woman to him. Logan fell in love with her and when he was happy, _ truly happy_, the government pretended to kill her. Logan was enraged and distraught in equal measure. He was, in fact, so compromised, that he agreed to an experimental procedure under the pretense that he could avenge her. He got adamantium pumped into his body. Covered his entire skeleton. Stryker, with DOJ permission and enthusiastic approval from the government in general, spent decades torturing mutants to get them to be the most dangerous predators we could be while also being fully under his control. Hell, the US government gave Zola _ goddamn immunity _ and that's how he was able to help rebuild Hydra with Madame Hydra. And even without all that, we both know just how much damage this country can do to a group of people they don't like. There's no way you need a white person explaining that to you. After all, you've lived it."

Rhodes winced, but nodded and stared at the table. Happy cleared his throat and excused himself, looking uncomfortable. Vivian wasn't sure why he'd come into the room at all. He didn't really seem like the time that would be particularly good at the job of security. Her only guess was that he was doing this for Pepper and for Tony, to show solidarity with them until it finally was just too much.

"A philosophical debate about the merits of the United States' government, while fascinating, was not the reason we agreed to this meeting," Pepper reminded everyone, sending firm stares. "The point of this meeting was to discuss the future. Vivian, what exactly is your plan here? If we let you live here, what would you do?"

"Honestly? I want to blackmail the US government, and various other governments into a deal. Hell, maybe just blackmail whatever replaces the world council," Vivian said with a shrug.

Steve sounded like he was choking on air, and Vivian winced as he whispered, "You _ what_?"

Pepper, Tony, and Rhodes all began speaking at once, but Vivian whistled hard, causing them all to quiet down as she explained, "This isn't for me. I mean, it'd be great if I was also included in this deal, but it's not a requirement."

"What exactly is it?" Steve asked cautiously.

Leaning back in her chair, Vivian said, "I have a few terabytes worth of data on Hydra, specifically the files regarding missions performed by both myself aka Hecate, and one James Barnes as the Winter Soldier."

"All of the files Hydra had were leaked by Romanoff," Tony said with a sneer.

Vivian shook her head, "Not these. The only things Natasha could leak were things that were held within Hydra's, and therefore SHIELD's, connected servers. The information on the Winter Soldier project, the actual inner workings, were never put into those servers. They were always kept offline to keep the project as in-house as possible. It's why if you asked even portions of Hydra agents before the big reveal, they wouldn't have known for certain if the Soldier was real or just a legend."

"What information does it have?" Rhodes asked, his hands clenched tightly on the table.

"A full and complete list of the missions, including detailed mission reports and information on every single person involved with the file. More than just Hydra agents are listed in those ranks, because sometimes people were allies, but not specifically members. Some are even still in office within the government. That's true for multiple countries. I plan on trading the information for immunity for Barnes."

Steve turned to stare at her so fast that Vivian was pretty sure she'd caused himself an injury.

"You want to _ want_?" Tony snapped.

"Bucky wasn't responsible for those kills," Vivian insisted, leaning forward. "If necessary, I will find him a lawyer who will get him acquitted, but I'd rather spare him the trial entirely. He shouldn't have to endure harassing questions about the times he got his entire being electrocuted out of his body."

"And you?"

"What about me, Stark?"

"Will you try to get immunity?"

Vivian shrugged, "I mean, I'd prefer not to go to prison for hundreds of years or get executed multiple times, but if I'm told I can save only one of us, it's going to be him."

Steve stood up so fast that his chair flew back and Vivian winced as he snapped, "Excuse us."

Steve gently pulled her up. They left the meeting room, but only made it a few feet into yet another conference room. He shut the door and began pacing. She watched him warily, pretty sure she knew why he was upset. He finally, after a few minutes, turned to her and choked out, "What was all that about?"

Vivian winced and ran her hands over her face. Taking a deep breath, she admitted, "Okay, arguably I crossed a line back there ages ago. Surprised it took you this long to drag me out of there."

Steve pinched his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and huffing in a breath before he asked, "But why? You've never spoken to me the way you spoke to Tony."

Vivian shrugged, "Yeah, well you've never cornered me like I was a dangerous animal."

"_Viv_."

Vivian sighed and threw up her hands, "I know. Okay? _ I know_. I know I fucked up. And I told myself to just be _ nice_, but then he showed up with a whole goddamn entourage and he's wearing _ that suit_, and all I could remember were those times I had to justify my existence, justify _ Bucky's _ existence, to people whose sole intention of the meeting was to figure out not if I should be punished, but how much. Oh, and whether or not Bucky shared in it. Typically if I pissed them off _ just enough_, they would brutalize me, but leave him alone."

Steve looked near tears, and Vivian sighed, "I didn't tell you that to upset you. I'm sorry. And I get it. My past trauma isn't exactly an excuse to lash out at the man."

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling sharply through her nose, but then let it out as a shuddering breath as he stepped closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks as he whispered, "Viv, you don't have to keep doing that. _ I can help you_. I am _ never _ going to let any of the people inside or outside of that room hurt you _ ever again_."

"You might not have a choice. You might have to choose between me or Buck."

"I refuse."

Vivian opened her eyes and stared up at Steve, a weak smile on her face as she whispered, "God, you really mean that, don't you? You gonna fight the whole damn world to keep the three of us together, Rogers?"

"Why not?" Steve whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "You did."

"That's not--"

"Not what? Not how it happened? Because I have _ thousands _ of pages of documents that show otherwise, that prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you spent decades of your life suffering just for the _ chance _ that you could save us."

"Steve, _ I'm not a hero_," Vivian whispered, almost desperately. "And if it comes down to it, if it's what it takes to guarantee Bucky gets to have a _ life_, then I should--"

"No, If there's a deal, it has to be for both of you," Steve said, his jaw set with determination.

"_Steve_\--" Vivian begged.

"You deserve to have a life, Viv. You haven't had a life since _ 1943\. That's seventy-one years_. Seventy-one years where you got imprisoned and tortured, and god, even executed. Hell, let's pretend for a second that you're right about being a criminal, which you're not by the way. If you were a criminal, then you've already goddamn paid for it just through that."

"_Steve_," Vivian breathed out, staring into his eyes.

"It's the three of us together. I won't sacrifice either of you. And I am so sorry if you ever thought that I loved Bucky more than you, because that's never been true. I love both of you so much and--"

Vivian pulled Steve down into a kiss, and immediately Steve kissed back, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she let herself get lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being in his arms. She felt like her very soul was being warmed, but then paused the kiss, gasping for air as Steve pressed his forehead to hers. It was just for a moment and then he kissed down her cheek and to her neck. Her fingers gripped at his hair and she gasped.

He kissed back up her neck and for a moment they just stood there, wrapped up in each other's arms. Steve gave a shuddering sigh and whispered, "If you don't want to be with us, if you want something or someone else, then I won't stand in the way of that. I won't hold you back, but if you want to be with us then I'm not going to let them take you from me. The deal will have to be for both you and Buck, because _ I can't_\--Viv, I _ won't _ lose you. Watching you get hurt in that footage was bad enough, but then _ seeing it in person_? _ God_, I--"

"_Shh, I'm okay now_. You were there when I woke up. You harassed me into staying in bed. You took care of me."

"And I want to _ keep _ taking care of you. I want to keep being there for you."

Vivian looked into Steve's eyes and smiled, "Okay."

Steve grinned, "Okay."

Vivian shook her head and sighed, "We should probably get back to the conversation with Stark since you went through the effort of setting this up."

"I texted him and I had lunch with Pepper," Steve said with a shrug. "Not that much of a hardship for me."

"I appreciate it anyway, and I will...try to be nicer to Stark."

"Proud of you," Steve said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He then smirked and whispered, "And if you punch him, make sure to punch somewhere other than his face. He's sensitive about that."

Vivian threw her head back and laughed, hopping down from Steve's arms and teased, "God, for a moment I almost forgot how chaotic you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Steve said, getting an innocent look on his face. "I am as lawful as they come."

Vivian snorted, laced her fingers with Steve's and shook her head while teasing, "I bailed your ass out of jail _ way _ too many times for me to believe _ that _ propaganda."

Steve chuckled and after a few deep breaths, they headed back into the conference room where Tony looked like he'd been scolded. Meanwhile, Pepper and Rhodes looked almost exhausted. More peculiar was how Happy still wasn't back.

"Happy got called away for tower business," Rhodes said.

Vivian nodded and sat down. For a moment no one said anything, and Vivian could feel Steve's stare, so she sighed, "Okay, so, I should definitely apologize for my behavior before. I lashed out and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. This is supposed to be a meeting where we come together and have a peaceful talk, and I certainly didn't help that."

Tony picked at his nails, gritting his teeth and just stayed silent until finally he said, "Saw a lot of the video of you. Your taunting Schmidt with the old Captain America song wasn't bad. Wasn't great, but wasn't bad."

Vivian shrugged, "Not all of us are super geniuses. Gotta work with what you've got."

Tony's lip twitched, almost as if he wanted to smirk, and Pepper was flat out grinning. Tony sat up and asked, "If I agree to help you, would you be able to stop killing?"

"_Tony_," Pepper hissed.

"Tony, she's not a serial killer," Steve said, that commanding officer voice of his in full force.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, probably inflammatory, but Rhodes glared and said, "What Tony _ means _ is that since it's obvious that Captain Rogers will be seeking a deal for both Barnes and you, what guarantee do we have that you'll stay on the straight and narrow?"

Vivian frowned, "None. I can't really. I can try my best to be a good person, but I have no idea what the future holds. I'm also not going to sit here and pretend I'm above using a moral justification to do terrible things. During the last mission, I did kill a man. He'd nearly killed Rogue and he had his gun raised and I killed him, but the thing is that I didn't really have to do that. I had the power to disarm him or a number of other things, but the law won't actually view that particular kill of mine with any sort of problematic lens. I will be, under the eyes of the law, correct. I justified it to myself at the moment that I was doing what I needed to do. I don't know what the future will hold. If someone were to come after Steve tomorrow, I don't know what all I'd do to keep him safe, because historically, there hasn't been a limit to that."

"You're not really selling yourself well here," Pepper said.

Vivian shrugs, "I don't know what else to tell you. Tony's broken the law before. He's even been hauled in front of the senate. They wanted to confiscate everything of his because everything about Iron Man was an excessive, illegal use of power by that of a civilian." She glanced at Tony, "Did you ever swear to anyone that you'd never make that mistake ever again?"

"That's not fair," Tony said.

"Isn't it? It's what you're asking me to do, only my actions actually were, horrifically so, condoned by governing bodies?"

Rhodes winced and sighed, "You're taking the promise too literally. Can you promise to stay on the straight and narrow?"

Vivian arched an eyebrow, "That's not what you asked. You asked what _ guarantee _ you guys have. And honestly, if you want a guarantee, it's Steve, but otherwise, all you have is my word, because that's all you have from anyone."

"Captain Rogers has a notorious history of defying orders from commanding officers as well as the law," Rhodes retorted.

"And yet none of you are asking me for any guarantees," Steve said, frowning.

"You're...Captain America," Tony scoffed.

Vivian rolled her eyes, "Rhodes just threw a wrench into that defense. Besides that, Captain America doesn't fucking exist. It's a name. It's a prop. He's Steve Rogers. That's who he is. It's who he's always been. You think that there's this weird static image of him because his image got used for propaganda, but the government using that image for over seventy years doesn't actually change who he is as a person. And, if we're all being honest with ourselves, I doubt you've _ ever _ understood Steve in a meaningful way."

"He's a stick in the mud boy scout."

"Since you don't seem to be understanding this, I'll be clearer. A boy scout typically doesn't get arrested over and over again because he just kept sticking up for what he believed in to the point where he'd just get into random street fights. A boy scout doesn't typically steal a helmet and illegally go behind enemy lines to stage a rescue mission on the off chance that the people he loves are still alive. The weird idea of Steve being some virgin who never curses, never breaks the law, and is all about Capitalism and the American way is..."

"Bullshit," Steve added, a smile on his face that made Vivian grin. He looked over at her and she blushed. She'd forgotten just how much him just looking at her could make her feel so _ important _ and just _ special_.

Vivian heard Tony clear his throat, but then couldn't help but be relieved when Pepper said, "We have some things to talk about."

"Good, Vivian and I will be going for lunch," Steve said, standing up and holding out his hand. Vivian slipped her hand into his and stood as well, nodding to each of them as Steve added, "Thank you for your time."

They were silent until they got into the elevator, but then Vivian rolled her eyes when Steve announced, "They're going to say yes."

"You don't know they're going to say yes."

"I think I'm starting to figure Tony out."

Vivian turned to face Steve and laughed, "Oh really? Do tell."

Steve grinned and admitted, "You made a lot of great points in there. He'll think about it and he won't want to admit you're right, so he'll think of another reason to agree so that he doesn't lose face. Pepper and Rhodes will convince him and he'll pretend he's doing it for them, not for us. Or he'll do it because he's hoping to see me get into a fist fight in the middle of the street with a senator."

"That would be _ extremely fun to watch_," Vivian said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes and then admitted, "There's also the more calculating reason he'll want to help protect you."

"And what's that?"

"He doesn't want to be in a fight with the X-Men...or me, really."

"For now," Vivian said.

Before Steve could reply, the doors slid open and Vivian smiled as Clint stood in the doorway, still eating popcorn as he asked, "So, you fugitives or what?"

"Not yet," Steve said with a grin.

Vivian rolled her eyes and sighed, "Hopefully Steve won't be a fugitive again for a long time."

Clint backed up, speaking through a mouthful of popcorn, "You saw that?"

"No. Hydra wasn't exactly letting me watch the news," Vivian said, pulling off her heels as she entered the apartment and put them on a shoe rack next to the elevator. "I did get updates though. Mostly bragging from higher ups." Turning toward Steve as he pulled off his shoes, she admitted, "They really thought they had you there for a second with a quinjet apparently. What'd you do to that thing anyway? No one would tell me."

Clint burst into laughter, nearly choking on his popcorn and Steve's expression went carefully blank as he said, "You know, cooking has gotten way easier lately. Got all sorts of gadgets that'll practically cook for you. I should cook lunch for us."

Watching as Steve walked off toward the kitchen, Vivian glanced over at Clint only for the man to just shrug and wander over to the couch. She snorted as he practically fell over the back of the couch to land next to Natasha. Natasha didn't look away from the television, just grabbed the bucket of popcorn from him. Sam looked on with a confused expression on his face before he focused back on the TV as well. Shaking her head and heading into the kitchen, Vivian watched as Steve began cooking up a good looking chicken stir fry. It seemed like a lot of food, but then she remembered both that Steve was probably cooking for his other friends as well as them, and that he probably ate a gigantic amount of food.

"So how bad is whatever you did to that quinjet?"

"Nothing too bad."

"_Steve_."

"I flipped onto it and used my shield to make it crash. I was never in any real danger."

Vivian leaned against the counter next to the stove and looked up at Steve, who seemed very focused on his food. Rolling her eyes, she smiled, "Steve, I'm not mad at you, you know."

"You've never been a fan of my being reckless."

"Oh, I never said I was a _ fan _ of you catapulting yourself onto an aircraft or throwing yourself onto a grenade you thought was live or crashing a plane into the arctic. Actually, that reminds me," Vivian said reaching up and gently turning Steve to face her. As he stared into her eyes, she quietly begged, "Please don't ever do anything like that again."

"Viv--" Steve whispered, his voice choked.

"Damn, that smells good. What ya cookin', Rogers?"

Glancing over at Sam as he strolled over with a beer in one hand. Vivian hopped up onto the counter and announced, "Chicken stir fry. Looks good."

Sam came over and peered between them, giving a low whistle as he looked at the food that was finishing up cooking, "Hell yeah. Looks amazing." He then glanced between them and winced, "Shit. Did I interrupt something?"

Vivian shook her head, "Nothing Steve and I can't pick up later, Sam. Besides, the kitchen while we're about to eat lunch isn't the place to have that conversation anyway."

Sam looked wary but nodded, grabbing plates and more beers before setting the table. Glancing over at Steve, Vivian sighed as he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too, now focus on cooking before you burn it," Vivian said with a soft smile. She then stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Steve turned toward her and gently pulled her back up, kissing her on the lips. Smiling, Vivian rolled her eyes as Steve whispered, "Bucky was the one who would burn food."

Lightly flicking Steve's arm and earning a chuckle from him, Vivian grabbed a glass from the table and filled it with ice water before sitting down. Sam arched an eyebrow at her and she arched one right back. After a moment, Sam finally said, "I guess you being around is what it takes to get Steve to cook for the rest of us."

"I've cooked for you!" Steve said, sounding deeply offended.

"Yeah, man, but not often. And only if you were feeling guilty about something."

"If that were true, Steve would cook every meal for us," Natasha said, strolling over and sitting next to Sam.

Sam snorted and high fived Natasha as Steve turned around and griped, "Hey, c'mon. That's not fair."

Vivian smiled, "I'm sure you help out plenty and only a small portion of it is out of guilt, babe."

Steve blushed and Viv watched as he served the stir fry. He even went over and let Clint know via sign language that the food was ready. And then for a while they were all just eating quietly. Natasha and Clint sat close together, their chairs turned toward each other. Vivian focused on eating her food, letting the soft conversations wash over her as she thought about how exactly she was going to word what she was thinking to Steve. She hadn't _ intended _ for this conversation to happen _ just yet_, but it had always been something she'd planned on talking to him about.

"Vivian?"

Glancing up at Sam, Vivian smiled, "Sorry, zoned out."

"I was just asking if you're as behind on pop culture as your boy is," Sam asked cautiously, glancing between them.

Vivian shrugged, "I got some engagement with things throughout the years, mostly in an undercover mission in DC in the early 2000's, but otherwise there's a chance Steve's ahead of me."

"What was your mission in DC?" Sam asked curiously. "If you don't mind if I ask."

"Spy on politicians while pretending to be a normal American woman. Got an apartment with another person. Whole place was bugged though, so probably some fun audio of that."

Natasha smirked and took a sip of her drink before she said, "Oh, I'm sure whoever was spying on us just had the time of their life with you."

"Oh, like you were any better," Vivian retorted.

Natasha arched an eyebrow and took a sip from her drink. Clint looked amused beyond belief, as did Sam, but Steve looked concerned. He also looked really close to making one of his big speeches. Shaking her head, Vivian finished her food and took her dish to the sink, rinsing it before putting it into the dishwasher. Before Steve could actually make one of his speeches, Vivian pressed a kiss to his cheek and headed down the hallway.

"Jarvis, does Steve have a bedroom on this floor?"

"Third door on your left."

"Thanks," Vivian said, going into that room. The room itself was pretty bare. There were a few pieces of art on the wall, but otherwise it just had some sleek, modern furniture, a huge bed, and a large TV across from it. The room had plush carpet on the floors and she wiggled her toes in it. It was soft, almost impossibly soft. She then pulled back the covers on the bed and climbed in, a shiver going down her entire body as she felt just how _ soft _ the bed was.

The sound of the door opening, for just a moment, set Vivian on edge, but then she relaxed as Steve said, "Viv?"

Turning around and looking at him, Vivian smiled softly and said, "Your bed's really nice."

Steve smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair as he asked, "You okay?" She shrugged and he sighed, laying down next to her. For a moment they just laid there, just looking into each other's eyes until he whispered, "Talk to me."

"You don't want me to sacrifice myself anymore, right?"

"Yeah."

"I don't want you to do that either anymore."

"I didn't--"

"Don't," Vivian sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. "I know about the grenade. I know about the plane. I _ saw _ the reckless shit you did in New York, although I was _ also _ there being reckless, just with zero armor on, so I can't be mad at you about that one. I don't know what all went down on the helicarrier, but I know you weren't breathing when Buck pulled you out of the water. I had to fucking _ bring you back _ and God, I was _ so scared_. I was so _ goddamn afraid _ that I wouldn't be good enough. CPR only works a small amount of the time, and I just--"

Vivian choked back a sob and Steve sat up, pulling her into his arms. She could feel a slight trembling in his arms and knew she hadn't imagined it as he choked out, "Viv--"

"I'm not asking for an apology," Vivian said quietly. "And I never wanted to guilt you or anything. You were going through something awful for most of those events and all of them were you trying to do the right thing. We just...both have to stop ignoring our own safety when we do it. We're both _ really bad _ about it. And Jean and Charles and Logan and Rogue all did their best to get me to actually give a shit about my own pain, but I'm still figuring that out."

"We can figure it out together," Steve said, looking almost earnest.

"Yeah?" Vivian asked, trying to hide her smile.

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning wider.

Vivian laughed and pressed a kiss to Steve's lips before whispering, "God, I missed you so much."

Steve pressed his forehead to hers, blinking repeatedly as he said in a strained voice, "I missed you too."

"Think we have enough time to nap before Tony and Pepper decide my fate?"

"They're going to side with you and you're going to be able to stay."

Glancing up at Steve, Vivian smiled, "You know, I'm starting to wonder if you're just desperately trying to will this into existence."

Steve shook his head and asked out loud, "Jarvis, you think we'll have time to take a nap before we have to meet back up with Tony?"

"Sir has decided to make you wait for an answer until tomorrow."

"See?" Steve said with a grin. "More than enough time for a nap and whatever else we want to do. And Jarvis said we have _ all day_. And probably won't get an answer until after noon."

"Captain Rogers is correct."

Steve looked downright smug, and Vivian shoved him back onto his back and laughed, "God, you're a brat. I get it. Let's nap already." Curling up next to him, she smiled as he wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, sorry about how late this chapter is today. Wooops. Today's been uhhhhh, a bit of a trial.
> 
> Speaking of which, I don't actually know if I'll have another chapter ready for next Sunday. I'm going to try, but also IDK. The reason being that on Friday, in the middle of the day, my screen completely shit itself. The only way I can access my computer screen is by attaching an HDMI cable to my laptop and connecting it to my rather large living room TV. It is kind of cumbersome to sit like 3 feet in front of a large tv screen and type and edit. So, IDK how much I'll be able to stand doing that. I ordered a new laptop, but idk when that'll show up or how easily that'll be set up. I'm gonna try to keep writing with my living room setup, but I can't guarantee a chapter next week. I am really sorry about that. I hate skipping weeks once I've established a schedule. Finishing up this chapter in this setup was WILD TO DO. And I really hope it turned out okay. I really didn't want to skip this week, so as;ldkfjas;ldfkjas, here's what we've got. A very long, very dense chapter. Involving leftist politics. This ought to be totally fine and in no way alienate anyone ever. /s
> 
> But seriously though, I hope you guys like this chapter and I hope you're all doing well. And next chapter is kind of up in the air, but I am going to try. Just not sure I'll succeed.


	37. Thirty-Seven: 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst, mostly. There's a brief mention of Vivian's most dangerous head wound? Mentions of electrocution?
> 
> Like none of the injury stuff is ever described in a detailed matter, just kind of really blunt statements about them happening.
> 
> However, per usual, if there is something that I totally missed while doing my rereads before posting, then please let me know. It takes like, maybe two seconds for me to put a warning or a tag on this story, so if you ever need something like that for any reason, I will do it.

Bucky frowned as he climbed up onto the roof of the building. Matt was standing on the edge, dressed head to toe in that red leather outfit of his. Shaking his head, Bucky moved over and stood next to him before he asked, "Seem like a heavy night tonight?"

"Bucky, go back inside."

Bucky snorted and shook his head, "You have broken ribs, Matt."

"They're fine."

"I found you unconscious in the bathroom."

"I decided to take a nap."

"In your shower?"

Matt climbed down from the ledge and snapped, "_I need to be out there_. I need to help people. _ You know that_. _ You know _ what happens when I'm not out there to help people."

"And what happens if you pass out while standing on the edge of a roof?" Bucky snapped, grabbing Matt by the arm before he could get back up. "You think you can help people from _ prison_? Hell, what if you just _ die?" _

"I'm not going to die," Matt scoffed.

"Oh, you immortal now? Didn't know that. That's good to know."

Matt turned toward Bucky and said, sounding tired of the conversation already, "Damn it, I don't need your sarcasm, and if I wanted judgment, I'd call Foggy or Claire."

Bucky laughed, "Maybe you _ should _ call one of them. Especially Claire. I had to help you wrap your ribs this last time, and my first aid knowledge is a combination of shit I learned in the army back in _ 1942 _ and shit I learned from a hate group in between getting my fucking brain electrocuted into swiss cheese."

"Please, like we were _ ever _ relying on your medical knowledge. I know how to wrap my ribs. I just needed your help. _ Now let me go_."

Bucky kept his grip firm and shook his head, "No. You may be able to figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do next, but that's only if I'm going to move. I'm a fucking sniper, Matt. If I want to, I can stand here all fucking night. And that's a metal arm. That grip will hold out longer than I do."

Matt glared and pulled off his mask before he raised his voice, "I'm not some kid, Barnes. I don't need you to babysit me. _ I can get by on my own_."

"_Jesus fucking Christ_. You sure you and Steve aren't related? Long lost cousins or anything?" Bucky scoffed. "That fucking idiot said _ the same thing _ to me more times than I can count."

"I'm not some scrawny asthmatic that you're in love with," Matt said with a sneer.

"No, you're not, but you _ are _ my friend." Bucky wasn't sure whether to be offended by the shock on Matt's face, but then sighed. "What? Don't look at me like that. You picked my broken ass off of a roof. You let me stay in your home. We hang out. We talk. We eat meals together. I've patched up your wounds." He then let go of Matt's arm and asked, "If we're not friends, then _ why the fuck have you let me stay in your place this long_?"

Matt sighed and sat down on the edge. Bucky sat down next to him and winced when Matt admitted, "There's a reason you've met Claire, but not Foggy. Foggy...says he's okay with what I do now, but I know that's not true. I know he thinks I'm going too far. He still hasn't _ really _forgiven me for hiding this from him for as long as I did."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You didn't judge me. You made fun of me, yeah, but not in a malicious way. You're not trying to stop me from being Daredevil. You're trying to stop me from dying. You even sometimes give me tips on how to handle things."

"There was a time I probably would have just told you to stop," Bucky admitted, staring out over the city and smiling softly. "Used to drive me nuts that Steve kept trying to be a damn hero. I was _ so fucking terrified _ he'd end up in prison or dead in some alley. And just the more and more I fought him on that, the more and more he'd just _ do it anyway_. Ended up teaching him how to protect himself instead, but then I got drafted and he became Captain America."

Bucky cleared his throat and then shrugged, "I've had a lot of time to think about those times, and sometimes I just sit and wonder what it would have been like, _ what our lives would have been like_, if I'd just stopped and helped him earlier instead of just scolding him. Would he have gotten arrested as much? Would he have gotten so many injuries? _ I honestly don't know_, but it fucking haunts me. And so I'm not going to stop you from doing this, because it's something you feel you need to do. And hell, you're helping people. So you might as well do it with the best gear and the best training and the best information."

There was a pause, just the two of them staring out at the skyline of the city before Matt said, "For a moment I considered asking you to join me."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I've heard you after you wake up from your nightmares. You haven't had a night terror in over a month, but you're still having nightmares and once you wake up, you head into the bathroom, turn on the water, and you sob. Sometimes you vomit."

Bucky winced and sighed, "Yeah. Those nights aren't fun."

"Yeah," Matt chuckled. "They don't sound like they would be. And they're happening because you got forced into being violent when that was never what you wanted to be. I don't want to be another person in a long line of people just using you for that."

"You're not asking, I'm volunteering. Besides, can't fuckin' compare shit I've done for Steve to the shit I was forced to do by Hydra. Wouldn't compare the shit I'll do with you to them either."

"That's not--"

"That's not what?" Bucky demanded. "You can't act like your big thing is me making choices for myself and then stop me from making choices for myself. Besides, I'll just be your backup. I'll keep you from getting shot. I _ can _ actually do nonlethal takedowns, you know."

Matt sighed and stared out at the city. He seemed deep in thought before he finally said, "All right, if we're going to do this, then we've got to go back into the apartment first. I’m serious."

Bucky motioned for Matt to go first before the two walked into the apartment. Matt dug through his chest of things and tossed over a mask. It looked like something someone would wear while skiing.

"Wear this. It'll cover your mouth and make you harder to recognize. I'd offer you the setup I had, but you actually need to be able to see to move around."

Bucky pulled the mask on and pulled it up to his nose. After he did, he had to take a moment, his heartbeat picking up a little faster as he did so. The sensation was just _ so familiar_.

"Shit, Bucky--"

"I'm fine," Bucky insisted, interrupting Matt.

Matt laughed, "Why the fuck are you lying to me when I can _ hear your heartbeat_?"

"Fine. I'm not okay, but I will be. This isn't a muzzle. This isn't you trying to keep me quiet and you're not going to electrocute me. You're also not going to put me into a small chamber and freeze me alive."

"Bucky, seriously, you don't have to do this."

"Damn it, Matt," Bucky snapped. "_I need to know if I can do this_, because Steve isn't going to stop anytime soon! I've seen the news and we haven't talked about it, but I know he's out there fighting Hydra. I know he's out there still fighting battles to protect people. And I've seen glimpses of Vivian with the X-Men. I've seen glimpses of her with _ him_. The news might not know who she is, but I do."

"Are they going to make you fight?"

"God, no. They would never make me do anything, and Hell, I'm not even sure they'd _ ask me _ anymore for the same damn reasons you don't want to ask me, but I can't just sit back and watch them get hurt. Once I'm back in their lives, I won't be able to stand just hanging back while Vivian potentially gets shot in the head again."

Matt winced, "Judging from what you've told me about her, I'm guessing it wasn't just a graze to the temple."

"No, Matt, it wasn't. She had to regrow part of her goddamn brain." Bucky shook his head frantically, his eyes wide as he choked out, "I can't do that again. _ I can't_. I can't watch her get hurt over and over again just because she knows she'll heal. I just…"

"All right," Matt said, holding up his hands. "We try a few things tonight. If your heart rate goes too high though or if you get too bad, I'm pulling you out. _ No exceptions_."

"Fine."

"The rest of your outfit is fine. Dark jeans, long sleeve black top, and black gloves. And, the shoes seem fine for the kind of activities we do."

"How are we going to communicate?" Bucky asked, pulling his hair into a ponytail, still not used to Matt being able to tell which outfit he was wearing by _ scent _ and _ sound _alone.

"You'll whisper and I'll hear you. If we're within range of each other, I'll respond."

Bucky nodded and the two headed back onto the roof. Matt pulled his helmet back on and grinned before he jumped over to the other roof. Shaking his head, Bucky followed, wondering how he managed to get himself in a situation where he was roommates,_ and now partners in crime_, with the one son of a bitch that was more reckless than Steve. As he raced across the rooftop and remembered the vast amount of injuries that Vivian had gotten throughout the years, he realized that Matt still wasn't as reckless as Vivian could be. Although that wasn't really fair to her. She hadn't really had a choice in a lot of that.

He just hoped she was being more cautious now that she actually _ could _ be.

Matt didn't explain himself as he moved along, just keeping up a pace that would make most people weep. It was then that Bucky realized that, bare minimum, Matt was in extremely good shape. Bucky wasn't entirely sure where Matt got training like this. Matt had told him once that he'd been trained by a blind man, but Bucky sometimes wasn't sure if Matt was screwing with him or not with that story. Once they got to the first location, Bucky frowned as Matt turned to him and whispered, "Hold back. You're backup, remember?"

Bucky glared, but did as he was told, staying up on the rooftop as Matt quickly and efficiently stopped the would be assaulter. The woman thanked him and then ran off. Bucky kept a close eye on Matt the entire time, and thankfully Matt seemed like he had actually moved in a way to protect his ribs, mostly just his presence being enough to scare off the criminal.

And then they kept going. Hours of just stopping random break-ins and muggings. And things started to blur together. The shouts and the sounds of bone snapping and gunshots ringing out all started to bleed together until a firm grasp on the back of his neck had him glancing up at Matt in confusion.

Matt had taken off his mask and they were on a rooftop. Bucky was on his back and Matt was crouched in front of him, looking more worried than Bucky had ever seen him.

"Take deep breaths with me, okay? In." Bucky breathed in through his nose. "Good, good. Hold that. You're doing good, now let that out. Slowly." Bucky breathed out through his mouth, tears filling his eyes.

"You hear me now?"

Bucky nodded, his throat dry as he whispered, "Yes. What happened?"

"You got electrocuted. Building's wiring got fucked with by the owner so he could collect the insurance. You didn't get shocked too badly, but you collapsed. You weren't responsive for a few minutes."

"Are we still in that building?"

Matt nodded, "I'm good, but I'm not that good. I got you up to the roof, but you're too heavy for me to jump to the other roof while carrying you. Can you move? I wouldn't ask, but cops are on the way."

Bucky nodded and pushed himself up. Everything _ hurt_. Breathing deeply and shaking his arms out, Bucky then ran and threw himself onto the other building. He landed hard, nowhere near as graceful as before, but rolled over and laid on his back as Matt jumped over and crouched near him.

"I'm fine, Matt."

"Liar," Matt scoffed. "You're shaking. You can't catch your breath. You're nearly crying. Your heartbeat is erratic and fast. You--"

"I get it," Bucky sighed.

"Do you?" Matt asked, sounding confused. "Because I need to know if you're just lying to me or if you're lying to yourself as well. If you're lying to me, at least you know what the fuck is going on, but if you're also lying to yourself, then I can't have you out here. It's too dangerous for everyone."

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, "Vivian went through so much more than me and she can do shit like this. She can keep going out and helping people."

"It isn't a competition, and if she were here, I'd yell at her for pushing herself too. Now c'mon, it's time for you to go back to the apartment. Drink a lot of water, maybe take a shower or a bath, and then go to sleep. And think about what we talked about, because even if you want to be able to just go help your significant others at random, you might best help them out by just learning to take care of yourself."

Bucky nodded and got up, swaying slightly, but then steadying himself and said, "Alright. You win. But just…take care of yourself, Matt. You are one of my friends, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

Matt smiled, "I'll try not to break any more bones tonight."

It didn't take tremendously long for Bucky to get back to the apartment, but once he did, he was exhausted. He stripped out of his clothing and got into bed, passing out as soon as he got under the blanket. He didn't want Matt to be right about him, didn't want to just be unable to back Steve or Viv up unless it was absolutely necessary, but maybe Matt was right. Maybe he just couldn't do it anymore.

The next time he woke up, Bucky smiled weakly as he saw Claire sitting next to him. Sitting up, he asked, "Matt call you?"

"Yeah," Claire said, looking more than a little unhappy. "He said you got electrocuted last night. Wanted me to check on you."

"He didn't need to do that. It wasn't that big of a deal," Bucky said, pulling his hair out of the ponytail and running his fingers through it. He winced at the knots and sighed, "I just reacted badly. That's all."

"Oh, you reacted badly to being _ electrocuted_? What a surprise."

"I'm just glad you didn't say 'what a shock'."

"This isn't funny."

"Of course it isn't funny. That's why I'm glad you didn't say it," Bucky said, massaging his shoulder.

Claire rolled her eyes, "You know, you're worse than Matt is. If I'm going to help you though, I need to know if you're having any lingering symptoms. I can't do anything if your left arm got messed up, but the rest of you, I can help."

Bucky shook his head, "Sorry. No, I don't have any lingering symptoms. I'm just tired and hungry, but that's got more to do with the serum and running across rooftops most of last night than getting electrocuted. A few days rest and I should be completely fine."

"You sure?" Claire asked. "If you're lying to me, I'll know, and currently, I know where you live."

"I know better than to lie to nurses," Bucky said with a smile. "Even if I wasn't afraid of you, there's no way I'd survive Viv finding out I lied to a nurse."

"Oh?" Claire asked with a smile.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, Viv busted her ass as a nurse back in the 30's and then the 40's. Became an army nurse for the troops in World War II. Learned even before then that hospitals couldn't fucking survive without nurses. This _ country _ can't survive without nurses. Fucking pointless to lie to your nurse."

"Smart man. Maybe you can teach Matt a thing or two," Claire said as she began her basic exam.

Bucky snorted and smirked as she checked his blood pressure, "I don't know about all that. Took literally holding him in place to get him to take me with him this time."

"And you think that was a smart idea?" she asked once she moved to listening to his heart and lungs.

Bucky paused and took some deep breaths, answering between them, "I think Matt needs to watch his back better, and I still think that. I still think he needs to protect himself more, but I was wrong about how I could be the one to do it."

For a moment Claire didn't say anything, and then she stopped before she said, "There's nothing wrong with that. You don't have to be his bodyguard."

"Yeah, I know," he said, nodding dismissively as she checked his ears and mouth. "It came up, but it's not easy. I used to be that guy, you know? I used to be the guy that could run headfirst into a battle to keep Steve safe. Hell, could run all around town keeping Steve and Viv safe."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're just an old man, after all," Claire said, trying and failing to hold back a grin.

Bucky narrowed his eyes before he laughed and groaned, "God, I don't even know how old I am technically anymore."

"They not teach math back in your day?"

"I can do math, Claire," Bucky said with a loud sigh.

"Then you should know how old you are."

Bucky glanced over and asked, "How many years have you been conscious?"

Claire frowned, "All of them."

"Yeah, that's not how my life works, and while I'm getting more and more of my missing history back, it's tricky to figure out how many of those years I was actually conscious. And even the, I have to add up hours and days to see how many years that adds up to. I think I lived a few years after my 'death', but I don't know for sure anymore," Bucky said, shrugging.

Claire winced, "Right. Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault."

"Is there anything I can do for you? I can maybe get my hands on some sample medications for you."

Bucky chuckled, "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't even know how to begin to figure out how the serum affects everything and I can't exactly give you blood to have you test it. Lately I just make sure nothing feels like it's out of place or broken and then I just let myself heal and cope as best as I can."

"Eventually you need an actual checkup with better equipment than what I can smuggle here. Preferably with someone who has more access to your medical records. Everything sounded and looked perfect, but I also don't know what your baseline is. This could be awful for you and I would have no way of knowing."

"I know," Bucky said with a nod. "I'll probably get one once I head back to Steve and Viv."

"Maybe you should head back sooner rather than later."

Bucky winced, "Maybe. I just…I wanna stick around a little bit longer."

Claire's eyes widened as she whispered, "You're sticking around for Matt."

Bucky nodded, "We're friends, and right now, I'm the only person in his life who supports what he's doing."

"You know, the rest of us have good reasons to be cautious about what he does."

Bucky held up a hand, "You do. I'm not questioning that, but also Foggy doesn't approve of Matt doing this at all, so when criticism comes from him, Matt thinks it's just of Daredevil in general. I'm fine with him being Daredevil, so when I say I want him to be safer about it, it's easier to hear. That's not a guess, by the way. He specifically told me that when I asked him why the fuck he even keeps me around. Well, that and we're friends. It's just that I'm a friend who judges him less."

Claire held up both hands, "All right. Fair enough. Just, take care of yourself first, and maybe if you have time after that, take care of Matt as well. Got it?"

"Got it," Bucky said with a smile. Claire then left and he watched her go before he rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. He knew it was unlikely that he'd get electrocuted while helping Steve and Vivian, but it was just so _ frustrating_. He just wanted to protect them, and now he needed to figure out a new way to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Matt Murdock and Claire Temple, but I don't actually ship them together. I actually ship Matt/Jessica (I actually have an extremely short fic of Matt/Jessica that I wrote if anyone is interested) and Claire/Luke. Not that any of you asked. I just decided to say that, 'cause I can't help myself.
> 
> Also, yes, I'm on my new computer. I got it last weekend, but I'd been really stressed so writing this chapter in under a day just didn't really happen. I'm still getting back into the groove and learning the differences of my new laptop so next weekend is a little iffy, but I am going to do my best to get back on schedule.


	38. Thirty-Eight: 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some bullshit legalese, very minor rehash of the plot of Buried Alive, and also some commentary on social media
> 
> Honestly Matt is just using BS interpretation of law to justify the fact that he's doing what he wants to do. The law is incredibly complicated and differs depending on jurisdiction so please don't use anything in my story as actual legal advice. Get a lawyer. Don't trust cops. Drinking alcohol won't solve your problems. Drink more water.

"Foggy wants to meet you."

Bucky glanced up from the newspaper and arched an eyebrow. He didn't bother replying, just stared until Matt asked, "Are you raising your eyebrow? You know I can't tell when you do that."

Bucky winced, "Sorry. Forgot." Setting the newspaper down, he then asked, "He want to meet me because he's worried about you?"

"He doesn't actually know that you're…"

"Oh, so you wanted to break it to him that you're aiding and abetting a fugitive by making him an accessory to the crime?"

"There's currently not a warrant for your arrest. I checked."

Bucky snorted and stood up, "Is Foggy going to view it that way?"

"_Yes_," Matt insisted, stubborn as ever. "Besides, I'm basically your lawyer, so telling anyone what you told me is legally dicey anyway."

"I don't think a rooftop conversation while you're wearing head to toe leather is covered by attorney/client privilege."

"You'd be surprised what all is covered under that," Matt mused.

Bucky burst into laughter and shook his head, "Fine. I'll meet him, but if he freaks out, you get to explain this to him."

"Why? You too busy reading the newest news about Captain Rogers?"

Glaring, Bucky turned the newspaper over, mostly on impulse, and snapped, "I don't only think about them. I'll have you know that I was busy reading about the continued infrastructure repairs."

"Of course," Matt said, nodding sardonically before he grinned. "What'd the newspaper say about them?" Bucky opened his mouth to answer only for Matt to laugh, "About your boyfriend and girlfriend, not the never ending repairs to our infrastructure."

Leaning heavily on the couch, Bucky turned it back over and confessed, "Steve took down another Hydra facility with the help of Widow and Hawkeye. They didn't mention anyone that sounds like Vivian, but that doesn't mean much. If Vivian doesn’t want to be noticed, you just won't see her. She was all over the place during the battle of New York, but the public doesn't know that. Most people, if they know who she is at all, just know that I was going to marry her."

Bucky then glanced over and winced, "You know what, let's actually talk about your stuff instead. Foggy. So when would I be meeting him?"

"Today. We have another busy day today at work, but I told him that I'd order pizza and we could have it here with some beers."

"Might want to upgrade that to whiskey," Bucky mused. "Pretty sure there's no beer in the entire world that's strong enough for _ this _ conversation."

"It won't be _ that _ bad."

"If he calls the cops, I'm gonna go hide on top of that bar again."

"Why _ that _ bar?"

Bucky shrugged, "I like the music they play and no one would ever think a long dead war criminal from the 1940s would be hiding out on top of a gay bar."

Matt shook his head, grinning, "Try to stay out of trouble until I get back."

Bucky waved and sighed as Matt left the apartment. Bucky pulled out the laptop he'd purchased with Matt's help, once again grateful for the future and Matt's help in the process. Matt had actually gone to the store and played his 'aw shucks, can you help me' routine, and had purchased it with Bucky's cash. Bucky had watched from a distance, unsure of how Matt had managed to get help from the prettiest woman working in the store.

Shaking his head, Bucky shoved those thoughts aside and began looking up information about the latest mission handled by the Avengers. After a few minutes, he located a few websites with what he was looking for and began reading. Some of the websites also managed to have _ footage _ of it all and he sighed with relief as he saw Steve looking tired, but not as tired as he looked after the Battle of New York. This level of exhaustion looked like he'd just had a hard fight, not like he was close to giving up on life.

The website for the Daily Bugle had photos and video, although most of their stuff seemed concerned with some vigilante in Queens called Spider-Man. Regardless, the newspaper seemed to hate both Spider-Man and Avengers equally, calling all of them menaces to society. Bucky sneered as he watched a video on the site of some idiot with a mustache ranting about how the Avengers were responsible for the damage and the deaths in the Battle of New York.

Fucking idiot.

Bucky closed that site, deciding he hated Daily Bugle, and went to other sites for further research. He needed intel and he finally found, through multiple sites, that the people Steve worked with most often were Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff), Hawkeye (Clint Barton), and Falcon (Sam Wilson). Bucky remembered seeing all three of them in DC. Bucky winced as he remembered everything he did to them. Guaranteed he was going to need to apologize for all of that. Especially Widow. He was pretty sure he had actually shot her before, so she had at least two scars on her just from him.

She seemed to work well with Barton though and more importantly, they seemed to work really well with Steve. They communicated well, although sometimes Bucky felt a pang of jealousy when he came across a photo of Steve hugging Sam or Clint or Natasha. Steve was allowed to have friends. Hell, he was even allowed to, as much as it killed Bucky to admit it, _ move on_. As long as he did right by Vivian, Bucky had to admit that he'd stand aside if Steve wanted him to do so.

_ Liar_.

He rubbed at his chest after he thought that, cringing and swearing under his breath. Looking again at the pictures, Bucky shook his head as he realized he actually didn't think he'd be able to just step aside and just be okay with the man he loved not picking him. He wouldn't force Steve's hand or anything, but he couldn't pretend he'd be able to just _ be happy _ for Steve either.

The other people Steve seemed to work with, although less often, were Tony Stark/Iron Man (that was definitely going to be an awkward meeting), and The Hulk (Bruce Banner). A quick google of The Hulk's whole deal had him cringing in sympathy. As someone who had been injected full of off-brand super soldier serum, he realized just how lucky he was that Hydra had actually managed to get extremely close to the original with him. He could have easily ended up like Banner. Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Hydra trying to control the Hulk though. That sure as hell would have ended that whole situation a lot sooner than it had.

Shaking his head, Bucky braced himself and began looking at social media posts again. Social media was the thing that he understood the least about modern times, if he was going to be honest about himself. He understood how to work the tech and he liked the food as well as a lot of other things, but he just didn't understand the desire to put so much of yourself out there. He then reminded himself that most people in modern times weren't constantly afraid that Hydra agents would track them down and brainwash them again.

And while it was definitely a breach of privacy, part of him was grateful for the account dedicated to Steve's ass. Apparently since Steve had woken up, he'd taken to jogging in very tight fitting clothing. Bucky was pretty sure the shirts just weren't even in his size at all and for a moment he wondered if he just had to rip them off in order to get changed at night. The thought amused him, but he kept digging.

It was a little overwhelming for Bucky to see just how many options people had when it came to social media and just interacting online. Did they want to post stories? Website for that. Did they want to post very short bits of text? Website for that. Did they want to post photos/videos? Website for that. Did they want to post longer videos? Website. Did they want to post very short videos? Website. It seemed like every passing potential way of communication had its own goddamn website or app.

There were also communities on them, communities of people from all around the globe. Bucky, after a bit of reading, realized that while it was deeply annoying for him to say things or think things starting with 'back in my day', but back in his day, if you wanted to get to know someone, you _ maybe _ could call them, but for the most part your options were just write them a letter (if you knew their address) or just visit them in person.

And now people could meet and talk to people thousands of miles away. They could see each other through the internet. They could form bonds and connections and it only took seconds. _ Seconds _ and they could be joking with someone or talking about Captain America comics or the movies or whatever with just some random person. It honestly blew his mind and just from a quick glance at everything, he both loved it and hated it. He loved it because it was such an amazing resource, but also he hated it because fuck did it mean people had way quicker access to shitty people as well.

When he was a teenager, it took longer to meet up with people and spend time with people, but also it took longer to find racist or homophobic shitbags as well. Bucky wondered if Steve was on some of the sites, wasting his personal time as well as his professional time just beating up Nazis yet again since apparently Nazis were harder to kill than Hydra members were.

The soft sound of voices approaching the apartment had Bucky shutting the laptop and moving behind the bar. He then poured three glasses of whiskey before he just waited as the key turned in the lock and he heard Matt cautioning, "I know how this looks, but I am going to ask that you let me explain before you say anything."

"You know how what--" Foggy came through the door and abruptly stopped talking as he made eye contact with Bucky. Bucky waved his metal hand and Foggy whirled around before he hissed, "Matt, what the fuck?"

Matt winced and moved toward the bar, taking a glass of whiskey and holding it up. Bucky clinked his glass against Matt's before Matt downed his. Matt then sat the glass down heavy on the bar before he said, "Foggy Nelson, meet Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes, meet Foggy Nelson."

Foggy moved closer and took his glass of whiskey, also gulping it down before he said, "All right. Explain. Now. Preferably before my head explodes."

"A couple months ago I was patrolling and a woman got attacked in an alley. Before I could step in and help her, Bucky did. Scared off the attacker and then he jumped onto the roof of a bar. I followed him and realized he was planning on sleeping on that roof, so I invited him back to my place."

"You _ what_? Matt, are you _ insane_? Look at his arm! He fucking shot up that bridge in DC! He tried to kill _ Captain America_."

Bucky winced at that and folded his arms across his chest while Matt sighed, "He didn't have a choice."

Foggy snorted and snatched the bottle of whiskey from the counter, taking a swig directly from the bottle before he snapped, "Really? Was someone pulling his strings? Is he a puppet?"

"He basically was," Matt said, his voice not raising in volume, even though Foggy's had. "And if you'd give us maybe a minute to explain, you'd think so too. Bucky, do you wanna explain this to Foggy or should I?"

Taking a sip from his whiskey, Bucky shrugged, "I might as well, although I don't know how much help it will do." He then looked over at Foggy and said, "After I fell off the train back in 1945, I was found by Hydra. I'd basically already lost my left arm, so they gave me this one. Pretty quickly, I started getting trained in a lot of combat skills. The arm at the time had a tracking device and a bomb in it so escape wasn't really an option."

Bucky took another sip, avoiding Foggy's wide eyed stare as he continued, "Once they started wanting to run missions with me, it came time to make sure I would do what I was told. Eventually, after some trial and error, they started doing a combination of drugs, brainwashing, electrocution, and cryofreeze. During missions, I was really only allowed to know my mission and nothing else. Didn't even know my damn name. I was forced to do a lot of terrible things and I know that…I know that I did them. I remember them now."

"He remembers them, but he's not responsible," Matt said, stepping forward. "And I'm willing to prove that in a court of law if I have to, Foggy. He's the world's longest running prisoner of war--"

"Second longest," Bucky corrected without thinking.

Matt sighed, "Fine, _ second longest _ running prisoner of war in history, and he deserves help, not punishment."

"Who's the longest running prisoner of war?" Foggy asked.

"Vivian Peshkova," Bucky said before Matt could say anything.

"Wait, why do I know that name?" Foggy asked, frowning and taking another sip directly out of the whiskey bottle.

"Childhood sweetheart. I was gonna marry her and then the war started. She was a nurse. She got her throat slit back in 1943 so we all thought she was dead, but then it turned out she's a mutant who can regenerate."

"Wait, so let me get this straight. You're best friends with Captain America and dating a mutant."

"I'm actually dating both of them. Or at least I was. We haven't talked in a while."

Foggy practically chugged a good portion of the whiskey while Matt sighed and said, "Maybe slow down on the whiskey, Foggy."

Foggy set down the bottle and pointed at Matt, "He's a goddamn fugitive, Matt."

"I checked. There's no active warrants out for his arrest."

"Jesus Christ, Matt. He committed crimes! He murdered people! He even admits that he did them! You're _ harboring him_. That's against the law."

"Foggy, please. Right now, Bucky is just trying to get his life together, and if I turned him in right now when there's still active cells of Hydra all over the place then the first thing that would happen is that he'd be put into a cell and then people would start trying to kill him. It's not safe for him or for other people in that jail if he gets taken in."

"You don't know that."

"Bucky, what would Hydra do to get you back?" Matt asked, turning toward him.

"Almost anything," Bucky admitted. "Brainwashing someone like they did to me takes time and resources that they don't have anymore. It'd be easier to reprogram me than to program someone else. When they decided they wanted Vivian back in 1943, they captured hundreds of soldiers, killed dozens, and faked her death."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because they spent even more time than that engineering her in the first place. They saw her as their property even though she escaped from them when she was a teenager."

"Wait," Foggy asked, holding up a hand and drinking even more whiskey. "Are you saying Hydra created a child?"

"Yes," Bucky admitted. "Madame Hydra gave birth to her and then they started training and torturing Vivian as soon as she could walk."

Foggy and Matt both cringed, and Matt said, "As tragic as Vivian's story is, she's not the point of this. We're pretty sure she's safe with the Avengers. Right now we're here to talk about Bucky since--"

"Since he's been living in your apartment for weeks?"

"Yes. I've been helping him and he's been helping me."

"Where is he even sleeping?"

"On an air mattress in my room," Matt admitted and Foggy snorted.

"Christ, how are you affording that, Matt?"

"I pay rent," Bucky said, interrupting the two.

"Where the fuck are you getting money?" Foggy scoffed.

"Stole it from Hydra," Bucky said, taking a drink from his cup.

"You're using _ Hydra's money_? Jesus Christ, Matt. What if we get audited?"

"He's paying rent and also a retainer fee. It's all above board."

"It's potentially _ money laundering_, Matt! Bucky got that through a criminal organization!"

Bucky tilted his head to the side and then chuckled. When both Foggy and Matt stared at him, he shrugged, "I was going to correct you and say it's from a secret government intelligence agency, but then I realized that it's _ both_."

Matt sighed and rubbed his temples before he said, "Foggy, I'm not asking you to lie about Bucky. Chances are no one will ever ask you about him, but I'm just asking you to not go running to the cops to tell them about him either. Also, Bucky's not going to be living here forever. We agreed a while ago that this was just until he felt comfortable enough turning himself over to Steve Rogers."

"Hey, Matt?" Bucky asked. Matt looked over and Bucky frowned, "Is there any way you can go to the roof and not listen while I talk to Foggy for a second?"

Matt frowned, but sighed and nodded, "Okay, but I'm giving you guys five minutes. And then I'm coming back."

Matt left and Bucky rolled his eyes as Foggy said, "If you sent him away to kill me, know that he will beat your ass and drag you to the cops."

"Jesus Christ, I'm not going to kill you. I'm not going to touch you at all. I just wanted to explain the other reason I'm sticking around for a bit, but I haven't actually told this part to Matt and he'd be annoyed if he knew it was part of my decision process."

"All right. I'm already tipsy, so you might as well tell me."

"I'm trying to get Matt to be less reckless," Bucky confessed and Foggy choked on the whiskey he took a sip of.

"Shit, really?" Bucky nodded and Foggy stood in a blinking stupor for a moment before he asked, "What made you decide that?"

"He passed out in his shower after getting his ribs broken. Then the next night he was back out again."

"_For fuck sake_, _Matt_," Foggy groaned.

"I'm hoping to teach him a few self-preservation techniques and fighting techniques before I go. Nothing lethal, obviously, but just stuff to help him watch his six."

"So you approve of him being, you know…"

Bucky grinned, "I think the outfit is a bit much, but I understand why he is Daredevil. I really do. In a few ways, he reminds me of Steve. Both are stubborn fuckin' Catholic martyrs who think it's their goddamn job to fix everything in the world. Used to get so mad at Steve over it, and then recently I realized I'm just as fucking bad about that kind of thing, just narrower. I'm not trying to save the world. I'm just trying my best to take care of the people in my life."

Foggy shook his head and went to drink more whiskey, and Bucky took the bottle from him and replaced it with a water bottle. Foggy glared, but Bucky shrugged, "Pretty sure Matt doesn't want you to end up with alcohol poisoning."

"He really doesn't get to judge me on this."

"Obviously not, but he does get to care," Bucky retorted before taking a long sip of the whiskey and then putting it up on a high shelf. Foggy glared, but Bucky shook his head and leaned against the bar. He made sure to wait for Foggy to pause drinking his water before he said, "I know that you don't like that I'm here, but I promise I'm not trying to make trouble. I'm just trying to get my life back. And this living situation isn't permanent. I am going back to Steve and Viv. I want to go back to them."

Foggy sat down and sighed, "Fine, but if you hurt him, I will call the cops on your ass. I don't care what happens after that."

"Deal," Bucky said, shaking Foggy's hand while grinning.

"Try not to call the cops on my roommate," Matt said, coming back into the apartment.

"You said you wouldn't listen," Bucky reminded him.

"I also said I'd be back after five minutes. I gave you six."

Bucky shared a glance with Foggy, both shaking their head until the doorbell rang and Matt announced. "Right, pizza."

Foggy held up a hand and sighed, "I'll get it. You already tip the man or should I?" Bucky pulled a twenty out of his pocket, handing it over. For a moment, Foggy just stared at it before he sighed and took it, "Fine. I guess we'll add the pizza guy to this laundering operation."

Once Foggy was back with the pizzas, they were immediately thrown up and it was seconds before Foggy had the first slice practically shoved into his mouth. After a few seconds, he glanced at them both and through a mouthful of pepperoni demanded, "What?"

Matt laughed and Bucky shook his head, taking a piece of pizza for himself and shrugging, "Nothing. That's the only right way to eat a slice."

Foggy held up a hand, chewing the far too large bite for he pointed and announced, "All right, he can stay."

"You know, it's my apartment, so it wasn't really up to--" Matt began, a huge grin on his face.

"I said he can stay."

"All right, Bucky, since Foggy gave his seal of approval, I guess you can finally start staying here."

"Great, I'll move the air mattress slightly to the left the next time I'm in the bedroom."

Foggy and Matt both laughed so hard they almost spit out their pizza, so Bucky counted it as a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Spider-Man will be partway toward getting a college degree by the time anyone interacts with him. Also, his backstory will be Peter's typical backstory. As in yeah, I killed Uncle Ben. Again. Gwen Stacy is Peter's first girlfriend and she's gonna be dead by the time we see Peter in person. Aunt May isn't going to be an old woman, but also there aren't going to be any weird 'hot Aunt May' jokes and she's sure as fuck not gonna get weirdly hit on by Happy. Also Peter's not going to get blackmailed into going to a foreign country to illegally fight in a conflict that he doesn't actually understand whatsoever.
> 
> Yes, I'm still bitter about everything.
> 
> Did y'all know the Tom Holland Spider-Man movies were made by Sony and not Disney? 'Cause I for sure thought those were made by Disney, but no, just the Avengers movies he was in were made by Disney and the actual Spider-Man movies only had Disney on as co-producers. There's a good chance a lot of you already knew that though and I'm just a dingus.


	39. Thirty-Nine: 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: casual retelling of Vivian's past to Steve, and also a tremendous amount of sex
> 
> No, seriously, most of this chapter is sex.

Vivian scrunched up her nose as Steve pressed soft kisses to her neck. For a moment she just pressed her face against the pillow, not wanting to get up at all, but then he murmured, "Viv, c'mon, you can't sleep all day."

"Is that a challenge?" Vivian mumbled, wrapping her arms tighter around her pillow.

Steve laughed, gently running his fingers through her hair, "No, it's not. C'mon, I'll make breakfast."

Vivian sighed as Steve gave her a gentle kiss to her cheek before he left. She could hear the door open and close and so she rolled over, staring up at the ceiling fan. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she frowned. Definitely no chance of going back to sleep. She glanced at the empty side of the bed and shook her head. No point in staying in bed at all.

Vivian got up and headed into the attached bathroom and forced herself into the shower before finishing getting ready for the day. Well, somewhat getting ready. She'd put on a shirt and leggings, but not a bra because she still didn't feel like leaving the tower. By the time she went into the kitchen, Steve was dressed and serving eggs, potatoes, bacon, toast, and coffee.

"Okay, you're right, it was worth it to get up," Vivian said, stealing a plate from Steve as he rolled his eyes at her. She then took a long sip of her coffee and sighed, "This coffee is perfect. You're an angel."

"Enough of an angel where you might actually run with me one of these mornings?" Steve asked, a huge grin spread across his face.

Vivian scrunched up her nose, "I mean, I guess I can give it a shot, but also running is _ extremely boring_, so I think I would need more than the promise of good coffee that I can also make for myself."

"So demanding," Steve teased, leaning close and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Vivian laughed and shoved him lightly before pointing at him, "Hey, listen, not all of us just have a deep love of being active, okay?"

"I do not have a deep love of being active." Vivian arched an eyebrow at Steve, eating some of her food as she just stared at him over that. Steve stared right back until he sighed and admitted, "It really isn't like that, Viv, I swear. It's just that it…_helps_, you know, with _ everything_."

Vivian winced, feeling awful for teasing Steve. She set down her fork and laced her fingers with his before she admitted, "I get it. It _ can _ help with that, so I will make a deal with you, all right?" Steve nodded, looking curious, and she grinned, "I'll get up and start running with you, but hell, does it have to be _ every day_? There's an Olympic sized pool in the gym in this building, so some days can it be swimming laps or something? At least that's fun."

"Sounds fair to me," Steve said, looking a mixture between excited and relieved.

The two then settled in to eat their breakfast while reading on their respective tablets. They'd started splitting the different news organizations to check for word on Bucky a few days after Vivian had moved in once they'd both ended up getting a little too worked up about it all. There was nothing in the news about him though. There was some more stuff about the local vigilantes like Daredevil and Spider-Man, but nothing about a man with a metal arm.

"You find anything?" Steve asked, looking dejected as they finished their food.

"Other than the continued reminder that there's a human being who can shoot spiderwebs and swing from them? No, no mentions of descriptions that fit him or of deaths that seem like the Winter Soldier's work. Nothing," Vivian admitted with a sigh. "And that's probably a good thing. It means he's probably using his training to hide instead of, well, anything awful."

Steve nodded and Vivian grabbed the plates, rinsing them before putting them into the dishwasher. She was closing it when Steve suddenly asked, "Can I ask you something?"

Vivian turned toward Steve, wiping her hands off on a dishrag. "You know you can ask me anything."

"Did you…" Steve looked like he was floundering, his hands gesturing while he looked unable to finish his sentence.

"Did I ever what?" Vivian gently prompted, sitting back down.

"Have a morning run or anything like that before? Was your training ever just…_normal_?"

Vivian frowned and shrugged, "Sometimes, but a lot of it wasn't. When I was a kid still going through the biggest part of my training, I was working out in some capacity almost constantly, although usually I was sparring with different trainers. If I was running, it was _ usually _ on an obstacle course. Once I lived in New York for most of the year, there were training rooms in the place I lived that I did general workouts in.

"Ran around with you idiots a lot mostly after the person who was supposed to be keeping track of me decided they wanted more out of their career than being a babysitter and just started falsifying reports and expected me to cooperate. I was honestly fine with that, so I went along with it. _ Pretty sure _ that person got killed once I defected because they hadn't seen me or talked to me in years at that point.

"My birthday visits stayed pretty consistent though. I got tested on my existing training, some stuff got renewed. Other stuff got taught to me. I also had _ a lot _ of sparring matches. Usually insane sparring matches where I was expected to fight to the death. The Hydra agents chosen were ones who, unbeknownst to them, had made Schmidt or Madame Hydra or some other higher up mad in some way. They thought they were proving themselves in battle, but really were just being executed."

She paused as Steve began looking somewhat ill, and she said, "I don't regret killing those Nazis, and I know that's never been your thing, that you never wanted to kill _ anyone_, but--"

"I get it," Steve said, letting out a shaky breath and playing with his coffee cup. "I really do get it, Viv. And I want to hear this."

"You sure?"

Steve nodded, and Vivian continued, "You already know how crazy my work schedule was when I was training to be a nurse and _ also _ working at the same time. You and Buck both made your opinions on that _ very clear_. Once I became a nurse, my workload didn't exactly slow down. And on top of that, Hydra had started really accelerating their search, so it wasn't uncommon for me to have to fight to the death and then dump those bodies somewhere. My deepest apologies to the Hudson river in particular.

"Then I ran off to war to help people and also had the added benefit of being way harder for Hydra to find me and get to me, but also I was working my ass off. I was just constantly moving and never eating enough. Typically people weren't given as high of a workload as I was, but I was able to work without getting sick, so it was necessary. Most other nurses and doctors in the war tended to burn out, and people didn't know why I didn't, but they also didn't care as long as the work was done. And then, well, _ are you sure _ you wanna hear about that time again?"

Steve stared down at the table, but nodded. Vivian sighed, "All right, but if you change your mind at any point, just interrupt me and I'll stop. You understand me?"

Steve nodded, "I understand."

Vivian sighed, "All right. We were captured and while captive we tended to have to do a lot of really exhausting labor on almost no food. I also got my ass kicked a lot and then 'died' but was actually taken away. I was solely used for medical experiments. A lot of amputations. A lot of sickness. It took all of my energy to survive it, but for a while I got pretty weak. Wouldn't have been able to run to save myself, much less for fun or exercise.

"That time you got captured, I'd just finished really meaningfully healing from the last round of experimentation so I was healed, but I had barely any energy. I had enough energy to either escape or help you escape and figure out something at another time for myself. I chose the latter. I didn't know there was a route that meant we both could get out, but I don't regret my choice.

"I got punished for my involvement with that, but then it was pretty much business as usual in terms of experimentation until they took Bucky. I agreed to work for them to keep Bucky alive, and that meant I started eating again and sleeping again. For the most part, I was training him, and then it was a combination of missions and training. And honestly the decades after that are a lot of ups and downs that would take hours to explain. A lot of it was absolute Hell."

Steve inhaled sharply, his eyes squeezing shut. He looked like he was desperately trying not to cry, but then waved for her to continue. Vivian sighed, but continued, "Red Room was better. I was fed well, wasn't experimented on for the most part, and I got to train those kids. When I was living with Natasha for our undercover mission after she graduated, we tended to work out, mostly sparred on the roof, although we did some light jogging here and there. Once that mission was over, there was a few missions that I was included on, but I was mostly relegated back to being experimented on, especially after Natasha joined SHIELD."

Vivian glanced over at Steve and saw that he was lost in thought again, staring at the table. She squeezed his hand and whispered, "Hey, I didn't tell you that to guilt you or anything. I'm fine, I swear, and I know you keep thinking to yourself that there was something you could have done, but there really wasn't."

"I could have saved you," Steve whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Shaking her head, Vivian climbed into Steve's lap and cupped his face in her hands. Forcing him to look at her, she pressed her forehead against his before she whispered, "Steve, babe, _ you already did_. _ I'm right here_, and Bucky's out there and chances are he remembers everything by now. We just have to give him time to come back to us."

"What if he hates me?" Steve asked, hunching his shoulders slightly.

"Not possible," Vivian said with a small smile."Pretty sure there's a lot of people who would disagree with you on that, Viv."

"Turns out I don't give a fuck what they think. A lot of people are wrong about a lot of things."

Steve chuckled and relaxed his shoulders. His hands sliding up the back of her shirt as he teased, "Gonna punch people out for me again?"

Vivian nodded, smirking and tugging at the bottom of Steve's shirt while she said, "Only if they try to start shit."

"And what if I want to protect you instead?"

"Then I guess it'll have to be a team effort."

Vivian grinned when Steve kissed her. For a moment the kiss stayed sweet and almost yearning. They paused to catch their breath and she looked into his eyes. It'd been so long since they'd gotten to just _ be _ together and she wanted it so badly, just wanted to be with him. She kissed him, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Her fingernails lightly dragged along his scalp and her heart began pounding as he stood up, holding her in his arms.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, shivering as he kissed down her neck and began carrying her down the hall. She pressed herself against him, just needing to be even closer than before. She only loosened her grip once they reached the bedroom, laughing as she was dropped onto the bed. She leaned back onto her elbows, watching as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside.

She'd had no problems with how Steve looked before, had liked everything about him, but there was something just _ incredibly good _ about those abs. He almost didn't look real. Licking her bottom lip, she ran her hands along them before she tugged him forward by his belt loops. Steve grinned and leaned over her, holding himself up by his arms as he kissed her lips.

Vivian kissed back, playing with his belt as she whispered, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

She smiled and slowly pulled his belt through the loops, tossing it over onto the ground as she mused, "Bucky told me about what all the serum did, you know." She unzipped his jeans, grinning up at him as he hissed in a breath through his teeth. Running her fingertips along his hardening cock, she teased, "He also told me about how sensitive the serum made you. Is it true?"

"_Yes_," Steve whispered, almost reverently.

"You been with anyone since Bucky?"

Steve blushed bright red, pausing before he said, "A couple."

"Oh?" Vivian asked as she started pulling down Steve's jeans. He nodded shakily, and stepped out of them as they hit the floor. She palmed him through his boxers, relishing his groan as she said, "Tell me about them."

"_Fuck_, uh, first one was just a guy in a club. Mark. Didn't get a last name. We danced, and then we--" Steve groaned and his hands clenched into fists as she gently dragged her fingernails along his inner thighs. "We went into the bathroom. He sucked me off and then I sucked him off. I kind of panicked a little bit afterward. Decided I couldn't do that anymore."

"Who'd you go to after that?" Steve blushed bright red, and Vivian teased, "Oh, that means I know them. Who is it?"

"Clint."

"Nicely chosen. Tell me about your times with Clint."

Steve exhaled shakily, "How do you know it was more than once?"

Vivian pressed a kiss to Steve's hip and began pulling down his boxers while she laughed, "Because I know you, so what'd you two do?"

Steve stepped out of his boxers, his cock dripping with precum. Wrapping her hand around the base, Vivian gave a gentle squeeze, grinning when he groaned and gasped, "_Fuck_, he would fuck me. Yeah, he would fuck me. Oh god, after missions or just on days we both weren't working, he'd come over and--"

His hips jerked, and she shook her head, stopping him from moving. His legs were shaking and she grinned as he gasped. Releasing her grasp on him, she then gently maneuvered him onto his bed, pushing him onto his back. Steve's legs were spread and she crawled between them.

"Sometimes we'd just spend time together. Just watch movies or play games. Other times we'd make out, but most of the time, we'd suck each other off or he'd fuck me. I fucked him a couple of times."

Vivian gently licked the precum off of the head of Steve's cock, grinning as Steve groaned. His hands were clasped in the sheets and she teased, "Details, Steven, I want details."

Vivian toyed with his foreskin, grinning as Steve tilted his head back and gasped, "He…_fuck_…that first time was on the couch. He fingered me and then he fucked me."

Vivian sucked lightly on the tip and Steve cried out. She flicked her tongue, lapping up the precum as Steve said, sounding barely coherent, "Fuck. We fucked wherever was closest. The couch, the floor, the _ shower_. God, _ Viv_."

She took him deeper into her throat, breathing deeply through her nose as Steve's hands ran through her hair. Last time she'd given a blowjob was years ago, and it'd been a lifetime since she'd gotten to hear the gasps and moans that Steve was making.

"_Vivian_."

Vivian swallowed down Steve's cum, pulling back and wiping off her mouth before she pulled off her shirt. She started crawling up his body, but then giggled as he flipped them over. His chest heaved and before she could say anything, tease him about how much he enjoyed that blowjob, he kissed her until she was breathless. Vivian clung to him, desperate to be close to him, to keep being closer.

The kiss ended and Vivian blinked back tears as Steve whispered, "I love you. I love you. _ I love you_."

"I love you," she whispered back, staring into his eyes as he began pulling her leggings down. For a moment as he pulled them, he pulled her entire body down and he paused, looking sheepish. Vivian giggled and Steve laughed as well, blushing bright red. "Man, just can't control your own strength, can you Steve?"

"Look, I'm trying to be a gentleman--"

"Pro-tip, currently if a man calls himself a gentleman then he definitely isn't one."

"_And _ I'm trying not to rip your leggings," Steve finished.

"Good, I really like these leggings."

Steve smiled and gave her a quick kiss before he resumed pulling her leggings down. He then threw them to the side and she gave a shuddering gasp as Steve slipped a finger into her.

"God, you're perfect," Steve said, sounding a little breathless.

Vivian moaned, her fingernails dragging down Steve's back. He was slowly fingering her, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure throughout her body, but she wanted more, needed more, and she wiggled her hips. Steve gently pushed her hips down, chuckling as he teased, "Always so eager."

"_Please_, Steve, _ more_."

Vivian's breath hitched as Steve slipped another finger into her and his thumb brushed along her clit. It was like sparks along her skin, and god, he knew every button to push. She opened her mouth to say something, to tease him, but then she felt his tongue flick across her clit. She cried out and her back arched, her hands twisting in the sheets.

Vivian gasped his name and her eyes slipped shut as Steve sucked on her clit. She could feel her orgasm building, but then she whimpered as he slipped another finger inside her. She couldn't focus on anything other than him and just how good everything felt and just how much she'd missed being with him like this. It'd been too long.

Steve paused and Vivian glanced down at him. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she was about to ask why he'd stopped when he looked her in the eyes and continued. She watched his tongue flicking against her clit. She watched him smirk and then he sucked hard on her clit, still just watching her with that heated expression.

Vivian's eyes closed and she came with a cry, her back arching and her body thrumming. Her legs were trembling and she shuddered as she caught her breath. Steve kissed up her body and she opened her eyes as he gave a soft nip to her neck. Lacing her fingers into his hair, Vivian pulled him close and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss, and she smiled as well, still amazed that she was getting these moments with him at all. It felt like a dream.

The kiss ended and Steve reached over, grabbing a condom from his bedside drawer, tearing the wrapper open. He tossed the wrapper to the side and he leaned over to kiss her as he rolled the condom on. Vivian was still lost in that kiss when he grabbed her by her thighs and pulled her closer, startling a laugh out of her. Steve smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. For a moment they just stared into each other's eyes, both of them panting slightly and then he slowly slipped into her.

She gasped, gripping onto his shoulders tighter. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he began slow, deep thrusts. Her eyes rolled back and her head tilted, Her breathing grew heavier and it all just felt so good. He felt good. It felt good to just _ be with him_. It was just them together. The thrusting got a little more erratic and Vivian moaned as he reached between them, rubbing her clit until she came with a cry, her orgasm seeming to consume her entirely. Steve came soon after she did, moaning against her neck until they both sighed.

They separated and Vivian sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Her limbs felt like jelly and she felt the bed dip as Steve got up. She heard the shower start and a few moments later, the sound ended and the bed dipped as Steve rejoined her. She glanced over at Steve as sighed, his eyes closed. After a brief silence, he chuckled, and she leaned up on one arm, brushing her fingertips across bare skin as she asked, "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about how if being you was that goddamn amazing, and if being with Bucky had also been that good, that being with both of you at the same time again is going to…" Steve shook his head, opening his eyes. He glanced over at her and smiled, "We'll probably have to find out how well this place can be soundproofed before that happens." He then frowned and sighed, "If he ever comes back to us."

"Hey," Vivian said, squeezing Steve's hand. "I promise you that he will. I promise you that we'll get back to what we had before, but this time it'll be actually a hundred percent honest, and we'll get to be open about who we are. Sorry about lying to you before."

"People aren't going to be happy that Captain America is not only dating two people, but that one of them is a man."

Vivian rolled her eyes, "You're not Captain America, you're Steve Rogers and it's none of their business. It's also not illegal, so they can go fuck themselves."

"I just don't know what I'll do if they stop me from being, well, _ him_, if they find out."

Vivian gently ran her fingers through his hair. Steve sighed and she said, "Steven Grant Rogers, you have never once in your goddamn life needed that moniker to actually do good. You did good, because that's who you are. If tomorrow you had to show up to fight Hydra as Just Steve Rogers, then you'd still be doing the same thing. Hell, we can even workshop a backup nickname if you just desperately want one."

A smile twitched on Steve's lips, "Thanks."

Vivian rolled her eyes and then laughed, "Be right back. I'm going to go to the bathroom and get a little bit cleaned up since _ someone _ made my earlier shower basically useless." Steve reached for her as she got up, but she twisted away from his hands, "Next time."

Steve grumbled, but Vivian did what she said she would, taking an extremely quick shower just to clean up. By the time she came out of the bathroom, the small bruises from bites were already fading and she pulled on underwear before laying face down on the bed. Steve chuckled and rubbed gentle circles on the small of her back before laughing, "You sure you don't want me to ruin another shower for you?"

"Maybe later," Vivian said, grinning and looking Steve up and down. Unlike Vivian, Steve had decided to not put anything on after his quick shower. "Also, you being naked is incredibly tempting, but you should probably put some clothing on."

"You sure?"

Vivian rolled her eyes and stood up, shaking her head as Steve gently pinched her side. Swatting at his hand, she pulled on a light dress, pulling her hair back as she laughed, "I'm going to go watch something in the living room."

"We could watch something in here."

Vivian pressed a quick kiss to Steve's lips and said, "Sure. And that won't at all lead to more of what happened earlier."

"Hey, I have plenty of restraint." Vivian burst into laughter at that, leaning against the wall as Steve looked offended. "What? I do."

"All that matter is that you believe that," Vivian said, grinning over her shoulder at him before she headed into the living room. Within a couple minutes, Steve was exiting the room wearing sweatpants, pulling a shirt over his head. Vivian giggled as he then pulled her close for a quick kiss. Vivian kissed him back, but then ended the kiss as Steve started backing her up toward the couch. Pinching his side, she said, "We didn't come out here just to resume everything on the couch."

"Then why did we come out here?"

Vivian sat back on the couch and stared at the floor as she confessed, "Sometimes nowadays it just feels like a dream or like someone else's life, but there were times when it would just be you and me or you, me, and Bucky. We'd be in that apartment and we'd just talk. Sometimes you'd draw."

"I remember that," Steve said quietly.

"I missed those times more than anything else. They were so peaceful and just _ good_."

Steve got up and Vivian frowned, sitting up on the couch, but then smiled when Steve came back with a sketchbook and some pencils. He sat back down and pulled her feet into his lap. "The Hobbit's got its own trilogy. Well, two out of three of the movies are out. Third one comes out this year. They're fun to watch."Vivian smiled and then nodded as she noticed the blush on his cheeks, "What's got you so embarrassed?"

Steve squirmed and admitted, "After the Battle of New York, I started doing some filming when I wasn't on missions."

"More propaganda pieces?" Vivian teased.

Steve winced, "A couple." He then looked more than a little pleased and admitted, "I haven't actually admitted this to anyone, not even Clint. I watched one of the movies with him, so he's be so fucking mad when he finds out, but I managed to film some scenes a little bit before the stuff in DC."

"And?"

"My face isn't shown, but I'm going to be an extra in the movie that comes out this year."

Vivian sat up, grinning widely, "Are you serious?" Steve nodded, staring at the floor, and Vivian laughed, "God, that's so perfect. I bet Peter Jackson is mad you couldn't make cameos in more of them."

"Why would he want that?"

Vivian laughed and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek as she murmured, "You're kind of a big deal, babe."

"Because I'm Captain America."

Vivian rolled her eyes and kissed Steve gently, running her fingers through his hair before she whispered, "Because you're you. Now draw something nice for me while we watch the first Hobbit movie."

Steve chuckled and squeezed her hand, nodding to the movie, "I still prefer you reading the book to me over the movie, but I do like the movie."

Vivian blushed and turned on the TV, scrolling through the options until she found An Unexpected Journey and hit play. As she watched the screen, she could feel Steve watching her, could hear the soft scratching of pen on paper. It was all wonderful, but it wasn't perfect. The only thing that was missing from it was Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, sorry this chapter wasn't put up last week. I usually warn you guys when a week is missed, but I honestly didn't know I'd need to skip last week. I had most of this chapter written and then I was going to finish it on the 23rd after I hung out with friends, but for some reason I ended up just dealing with absolutely soul crushing levels of depressing. It was extremely bad, and it lasted for a couple days after that. There was no way I was able to finish or edit this chapter in any way. I'm doing better now. Hopefully this chapter is good.
> 
> I figured Steve and Viv needed some time together. It's been over 70 years since they've gotten to have sex. They deserve it.


	40. Forty: 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some mild smack talk about the military and a kind of description of a panic attack
> 
> Also I assert the fact that Elon Musk sucks because technically that weird man exists in the MCU thanks to his appearing in Iron Man 2 as himself.
> 
> Oh and Kilgrave from Jessica Jones is discussed, but this is in no way a rehashing of his crimes from that show. The fact that he's a monster is mentioned and more immediate threats to the people in this chapter, but yeah, if the actual stuff from Jessica Jones regarding this character is triggering for you, please know it's not mentioned here.

It'd taken a while to get used to Matt glaring at him. At first it'd felt awful and Bucky had honestly avoided it at all costs. After all, Matt was doing him a huge favor. And they were friends. Bucky cared what Matt thought about him, he really did, and the idea of this guy being pissed off at him just kind of made him feel like shit. This wasn't one of those times though, so Bucky merely yawned and stretched leisurely.

"Tell me where it is."

"No."

"Damn it, Bucky. This isn't funny."

"You're right, this _ isn't _ funny."

"Then give me back my goddamn gear."

"I'll tell you exactly where I put all your Daredevil gear once you promise not to go after that guy."

"_You're not my father._"

"Freudian slip much? Never fuckin' said I was. Besides, I'm old as hell. I'd _ at least _ be your great-grandpa. Respect your elders, you piece of shit."

Matt groaned and shoved away from the table, pacing. Bucky yawned again and glanced toward the window, "Wow, it's gonna get dark soon. Guess you should make up your mind already."

"Bucky, just give me the fucking suit."

"_No_. Either agree not to go after that creep or you're stuck using your frankly bullshit levels of hearing to figure out where I put it."

Matt was still pacing and Bucky took a sip of his drink. It wasn't his first whiskey of the day. Matt had found out about some monster called Kilgrave that morning, which had promptly turned the day into a _ very long day_. Matt wanted more than anything to go after him, so Bucky had taken it upon himself (with Foggy and Claire's blessing) to hide the Daredevil suit.

"People are going to die, Bucky. I can't let that happen."

Bucky winced at the flashes of memory those words brought up. His metal hand flexed and he inhaled sharply. He released it slowly. Normally Matt would be apologizing by now, and the fact that he was still just angrily pacing meant he was too pissed off to even pay attention. That was a bad sign. Taking another deep breath, he focused on remaining calm as he said, "All right. I'll give you back your suit and won't stand in the way of you going after this bastard if you can give me a good answer to just one question."

Matt immediately sat down, his hands placed on the table as he announced, "Anything. I'll answer anything."

Bucky nodded, swirling the alcohol in his glass before he asked, "How do you plan on avoiding his goddamn mind control?"

Bucky could practically hear Matt wince, and the two of them just sat across from each other in silence. After a full minute of silence passed, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He then stood up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, pouring a glass of it and set it in front of Matt.

Bucky pulled his chair closer to Matt as he downed the drink. Once the glass was back on the table, Bucky admitted, "Listen, I get it. Everything we know about Kilgrave says he's a goddamn monster. He's killed people. He deserves to be put away, and someone needs to take him down, but Matt…he fucking controls people _ with his voice_."

"I can figure something out. I've been trained. I can--"

"You can what? Stubborn your way out of being mind controlled? Not even you're capable of that. Hell, Steve and Viv are the most stubborn bastards I've ever met in my entire life, and _ even they wouldn't be able to do that_. Although they do have the added benefit of being able to get around without hearing. _ You can't_."

Matt slumped in his chair, looking more than a little upset as he whispered, "Do you think they'll go after the guy?"

"No," Bucky said, barely waiting until the question was finished before he answered. Matt looked shocked and Bucky explained, "Before Hydra decided to brainwash me, they first tested it out on Vivian. They fucked with her mind. Electrocuted her. Gave her more than a few lobotomies. None of them ever lasted long, but the pain of them lasted far beyond the physical injury healing. There's no way in hell Vivian would want to go near that man and even if she did, Steve would lose his mind. He'd insist on going with her, and Vivian wouldn't be able to cope with Steve potentially going through it. The only solution would be neither of them going."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, but I want you to think really hard about your skills, about what you can do. How would you feel if a monster twisted them and had you use them on innocent people? You're _ fast_. You're _ quiet_. You hear your way around which means lights aren't necessary for infiltration. You could break into _ so many places _ and just _ assassinate _ his enemies for him. _ And you wouldn't be able to stop yourself_. You'd just be inside your own head _ screaming _ for it all to end or you'd wake up with blood on your hands. I don't think you'd survive _ either _ of those scenarios."

Matt frowned and stared at the table for a few moments, seeming lost in his own thoughts before he whispered, "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Help someone else," Bucky said, shrugging. "There's whole groups that are better equipped to take out some douchebag with mind control powers than we are."

Bucky chuckled as Matt slumped in his chair, seeming more like a petulant child than a broody superhero. It reminded him that no matter how smart and strong Matt was, at the end of the day he was still fairly young and definitely still new to this whole thing.

"All right, I promise I won't go after Kilgrave."

"Promise you won't go near him."

"_Fine_. I won't go near Kilgrave either. Now where's my stuff?"

"Bundled up and duct taped to the bottom of your bed."

Matt stared at him for nearly half a minute before sighing, grabbing a pair of scissors, and heading into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he came back out with the bundle and set it on the table. Sighing, he sat down at the table and asked, "How'd you get into that trunk anyway?"

"_Really_, Matt? I'm a trained assassin and _ you think I can't pick a lock_?"

"You're snippier than usual," Matt said, eyeing him carefully. "What's wrong?"

"You mean other than the metric ton of trauma I'm constantly sorting through?"

"Yeah, other than that," Matt said, his lip quirking.

Bucky rubbed his hands over his face and folded his arms across his chest, his shoulders slightly hunched as he admitted, "The whole damn world seems to be on fire. And I swear to God, if you interrupt me to say '_that's how it always looks to me_', I will hit you."

Matt snorted and held up his hands, his lip quirking slightly as he said, "I wasn't going to."

"Sure," Bucky scoffed. He shook his head, "Hydra still isn't gone. In fact, they seem to still be all over the fucking globe. Steve's only got a small group on his side to do all of this. SHIELD would be a help, but I think they're avoiding Steve or he's avoiding them, and besides, they don't have many members. Hydra still outnumbers them by a lot, and also not that long ago tried to pin a bunch of murders on SHIELD. That didn't exactly gain them any favors with goddamn _ anyone_.

"X-Men help when they can, but they're not exactly popular among the masses so being out is also a danger to them. They haven't been framed for murder recently so they're still more popular than SHIELD but they've got a feud with the Brotherhood of Mutants that freaks people out. I'd say the military could help, but this isn't the 1940's and I no longer just _ believe _ that the military is the solution to things. In fact, their track record recently is to just make things worse."

Bucky stood up and paced a bit, shaking out his arms as he continued, "It also doesn't help that back in the war, when we took out a factory, there was a good chance that they would have to start at least some of those projects over from scratch. Toward the end of the war they started making duplicate copies of files to send to more than one location, but it was _ still a physical file _ where once it's gone, it's _ gone_. Everything took longer. Recruitment took longer, training took longer, production took longer_. Recovery took longer_. You name it, and _ it just took longer_."

Matt winced, "You going to go help?"

Bucky sat down at the table and shrugged, "I don't know. I want to help Steve and Vivian, but we already proved that if I get electrocuted, I'm just not helpful anymore."

"That's true for most people."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "Not for Viv and Steve. Viv will try to shake it off and if I'm around, she'll let herself get hurt to protect me. She's done it before. It's the only reason she was even still with Hydra as long as she was. She stayed until she could figure out a way to get that damn bomb and tracker out of my arm." Bucky paused and then said, "I don't think anyone left has access to the…the trigger words, but…"

"But you're afraid of what will happen if you're forced to become the winter soldier again." Bucky nodded and Matt sighed, "You're right, you know, about that monster. I just wish I could do _ something_."

"God, I really got to make sure you and Steve _ never _ interact. The two of you would just cause too much fucking trouble."

Matt shook his head, smiling softly. His expression quickly went serious though as he asked, "So what's the plan? You won't go near Hydra because you're afraid they'll control you, but then you won't go to Rogers or Peshkova because you could be turned against them potentially."

Bucky winced, "I'm trying to figure it out."

Matt frowned, leaning back in his chair before he asked, "Are you staying because of me? To make sure I don't get myself killed?"

"It's _ one _ of the reasons," Bucky stressed.

"Bucky, c'mon. You can't put your life on hold just to babysit me. Go back to them. It's killing you staying away from them."

"I will. _ Soon_."

Matt sighed, "All right. I'm going out tonight, and no, not going near Kilgrave. You should think about what we talked about. I'm not kicking you out, but you do need to think about what your plan is."

Bucky nodded and Matt headed into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came out in that ridiculous head to toe red outfit. Matt nodded, waving to him as he headed out. Bucky waved back and then waited a few minutes before he got up. Grabbing his shoes, Bucky slipped them on and then grabbed a hooded jacket. Pulling the hood up, he just started walking. He kept to himself, staying quiet as he made his way to Manhattan. It was late and there weren't many people on the streets.

The people that were out seemed eager to just mind their own business, so all he was left with was his thoughts. It would have been a shorter trip to just take the subway or a bus, but Bucky still didn't really trust himself entirely in an enclosed space like that. So he walked. He needed the time to think anyway, although it didn't seem to help him much, especially with how the walk didn't last as long as he'd hoped.

Too soon, he found himself standing across the street from the Avengers Tower. It stood out like a beacon against the rest of the city. Bucky sat down on a bench and stared at it. All he had to do was just walk into that building. He wasn't sure if the rest of the Avengers would allow him in, but Steve would. Steve absolutely would in a heartbeat. Vivian would too. And yet he couldn't move from the bench. He just _ sat there_, so close to the people he loved, yet so far away.

"Should I be worried about you sitting out here?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky frowned as Black Widow herself sat down next to him on the bench. Clearing his throat, Bucky nodded to the building and said, "I'm not here to cause trouble."

Black Widow almost looked like she pitied him. He averted his gaze, staring at the ground as she said, "If you were here to cause trouble, we wouldn't be talking. Hell, from the files Vivian showed us, you wouldn't be talking at all."

Bucky stared up at the higher levels of the building for a moment before he whispered, "Are you going to turn me in?"

"Rogers and Peshkova have been looking for you. I promised them I'd tell them if I came across you. There a reason I shouldn't tell them?"

Bucky's shoulders hunched up higher and he tore his gaze away from the tower, staring at the ground before he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I hurt you. I didn't want to, but it was still me."

"They really are right about you, aren't they? You broke your programming."

"Not soon enough," Bucky said, thinking about all the people he'd hurt and killed.

"If you go in there, they'll welcome you back."

"I know," Bucky said. "Steve and Viv never could leave well enough alone. Too loyal and stubborn for their own good."

"You saying you’re still dangerous?"

Bucky sighed and stretched slightly, staring up at the night sky before he whispered, "I don't know. Hydra had…ways of controlling me."

"And you don't know if those are still possible."

Bucky nodded and stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets as he said, "If I go back now, they'll take me back in a heartbeat, but it also means they'll put themselves in danger again. Steve _ almost died _ because he wasn't willing to take me out. Vivian was even worse about it. Sacrificed _ lifetimes _ for me. Sacrificed everything just for the _ chance _ to save me." Glancing at Natasha, Bucky's brows furrowed as he asked, "Are they okay?"

Natasha smiled, "Yeah. They're okay. They miss you, but the two of them have kept each other from taking on too much craziness. It's been a while since Vivian got hurt."

"Really?" Bucky asked, a smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah," Natasha said, chuckling quietly. "They really want you back, Barnes."

"I…I don't know if I _ can _ go back."

"The door's open for you, but Steve and Vivian wouldn't want me to force you to go in there. It has to be your choice."

Bucky cleared his throat, blinking back tears as he stared at the ground. He had to force himself to breathe slowly and deeply, his hands shaking. Natasha was still keeping her distance, but now he was pretty sure she was keeping her distance for him more than herself. Staring back up at the sky, he asked, "You going to tell them I was here?"

"Yeah, I will. Part of me wants to give you the option of whether or not they find out you were out here, but--"

"But you don't want to lie to Steve. And to Steve, you withholding this information would be a lie."

"Basically. Vivian would say she understood, but I think she'd also be hurt."

"Probably," Bucky said and stood up. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment he just listened to the city. There was always some noise going on and sighed, "Tell them I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what you did or sorry because you're not coming back?"

"I'm sorry about what I did, and I'm sorry I'm not going to them _ tonight_. I am coming back to them, but I just…I need to sort something out first. And I'm not going to ask you to lie to them, but I will ask you to just at least give me a head start. I don't want them coming after me. I found somewhere safe to stay and I don't think that place will stay safe if the Avengers start sniffing around."

"You get thirty minutes and I'm telling them you got that much of a head start."

Bucky nodded and took off down the street. He went in the opposite direction that he needed to go and then doubled back through the alleys. Walking turned to stumbling turned to racing forward at breakneck speed. There were some moments where his feet scarcely touched the ground, but he knew he needed to keep going. If he stopped for a second, he'd be lost, and he wanted that so badly. He wanted to just turn and run back, but Matt deserved to know for sure. He deserved more than a good guess and maybe finding out weeks later. It still was a struggle, forcing himself back into the apartment. For a moment after he entered, Bucky just curled up next to the front door. He grasped at it before he shoved himself back and away. No, he'd made a decision and he needed to stick with it.

Bucky thought about grabbing a bottle of alcohol and just chugging it, but what good would that do? How would that help him at all? He couldn't get drunk and if he was chugging it, there's no way he could lie to himself and say it was for flavor. It would just be a waste. Grabbing a bottle of water, Bucky grudgingly headed toward the roof and sat there, staring out and listening to the sounds.

He couldn't hear the city the way Matt could, but he could still hear it. And sometimes he wondered if Matt could hear Steve and Viv finding out he'd stopped by but hadn't stayed. Were they upset? Were they mad? He didn't know. His stomach churned and he chugged the water, just waiting. He knew he should sleep, and just talk to Matt about it in the morning, but his mind wouldn't quiet. His mind kept thinking about the look on Vivian's face as she'd desperately performed CPR on Steve to keep him alive. He remembered the look in her eyes when she'd told him that he was free.

_"You're safe now. They can't use those to find you anymore. I promise."_

She'd been so tired and so desperate to save both of them and he'd just walked away. Steve had been bleeding out on the ground and all Bucky had managed to do was just drag him out of the water, something Viv would have done anyway. Hell, she wouldn't have had to do it if he hadn't been there. If he hadn't been there, Steve would have just done what he needed to do and then left the helicarrier. He wouldn't have gotten shot and stabbed and--

Bucky put his head between his legs and forced himself to take deep breaths. He didn't want to vomit on the roof. Or off the roof. The wind blew over and for a moment he thought he could smell the river and he practically threw himself across the roof to the door. He couldn't get inside fast enough, couldn't get down and into the bedroom. He shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes and socks before he placed his feet firmly on the ground.

The floor. The cold floor. He could feel it. He was there. He wasn't on a river bank. Steve was fine. Vivian was fine. If they weren't, Widow would have told him. He breathed deep breaths and ran his fingers through his hair. Normally he'd shower, let the hot water soothe him but being submerged in water, even warm, was the last thing he needed with these memories. Working out was also out of the question. He'd get sweaty which would require a shower or he'd end up bothering the neighbors.

With a great sigh, Bucky changed into his pajamas and sat on his bed. He then plugged his phone in and got comfortable before he just started looking up random things online. He looked up everything he could. Cats on Wikipedia. Videos of stand up routines. Random slang definitions (he regretted this one). Articles on car engines. Articles on engineering in general. Articles on why Elon Musk is a total asshole. Once that ended up being not the way to calm himself down (Elon Musk and capitalism in general were bad), he ended up just watching videos of baby animals.

"Jesus Christ, did you sleep at all?"

Glancing up from his phone at Matt, Bucky shook his head, "No, but did you know that there's a breed of wild cat in India called the Rusty-Spotted Cat? It's a cousin of leopards and it only gets to be 3.5 pounds at most. That's smaller than house cats. They eat _ lizards_."

Matt crouched down, a frown on his face as he gently lowered Bucky's phone, "What happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

"You mean other than the fact that you're stressed as all hell and clearly haven't slept?"

Bucky's shoulders slumped and he sighed, "I went to Avengers Tower." Matt didn't say anything, just sat on the floor, so he continued, "I didn't go in. Just sat across. Black Widow spotted me, talked to me, and said they miss me, that they want me back, but that it has to be my choice. I walked away."

"Why? Why didn't you go in to see them?" Bucky winced and before he could explain, Matt scoffed, "God, don't tell me it was me."

"I am going to go to them, but just… I didn't want you to just show up here and find me gone. I owed you more than that. You deserved better than for me to just disappear without warning."

"You came back to say goodbye."

"Yeah," Bucky whispered. "And no. I still don't know if it's safe for me to go back to them."

"All right, how about this?" Matt said, sitting down on the floor completely. "You spend the next two weeks researching, _ actually researching_, and if by the end of it you can't figure out a way to handle this on your own, then you go back to them."

"But it still won't be safe to go back to them."

"Bucky, would you be safe here?" Matt asked.

His voice was gentle, but Bucky flinched all the same. He looked around. Matt was right. Matt's apartment was an unlikely place to find him, but that just meant it was a matter of time before someone dedicated enough did find him. And that meant he either had to be in danger on his own, with Matt, or with Viv and Steve. There was no option where he just woke up one day completely free from this without help.

"You're right," Buck said. Running his fingers through his hair, he admitted, "I'll do that."

He reached for his phone, but then rolled his eyes as Matt grabbed his hand and chuckled, "I think you should probably sleep first."

"Hypocrite," Bucky scoffed.

Matt grinned, "I get a few hours of sleep."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "Sure." He didn't really put up much of a fight though as Matt shoved him back onto the bed before leaving to get changed. Bucky then breathed deeply and let the breath out slowly, a smile spreading across his face. Thanks to Matt, he had a plan. And with that plan meant he had a way back to Steve and Viv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Tip to toe, this was a chapter. I do love Matt and Bucky as a brotp tbh, but I am also excited for Bucky to head back to the people he loves 'cause I'm a sucker for that.
> 
> I hope y'all like this chapter. I also hope this story isn't dragging on too long for you. Which also, I keep wondering if I need to split up the story so that after they reunite it's a part 4, but I have no idea. I also just have no idea how much longer this story is going to be. Would having this be 4 parts be something you guys would be interested in? I'm worried about having this series be like, 100k, 100k, and then have part 3 be some monstrous thing in comparison. Would love feedback on that.


	41. Forty-One: 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a repost from yesterday because I don't think an e-mail went out at all for this. If you did get an e-mail for this, nothing about this chapter has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst, panic attack with very dark thoughts including vague thoughts of self harm and the barest thoughts of suicidal ideation
> 
> I do promise this chapter is overall happy though? Like just sometimes mental health issues happen on very good days and those suck even more than normal because it feels like they shouldn't be happening at all.
> 
> The sentence before the panic attack/self harm thoughts/suicidal thoughts is:  
"Yes, I do, and besides, I'm just rinsing them and putting them into the dishwasher. You two go pick something for us to watch while cuddling or something."
> 
> Sentence showing that it's over is:  
Vivian nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered, "I don't know what happened."

_ Steve was probably losing his mind_.

That was the only thought in Vivian's head as she continued to wander the streets of Manhattan. She'd been gone for a couple hours and had forgotten to leave a note, which had seemed like a fine plan at the time because she thought she'd grabbed her phone. Unfortunately, she hadn't. Sighing heavily and shoving her hands into her pockets, she hoped Steve knew she wasn't _ gone_.

Vivian hadn't left the tower because she needed to get away from Steve, but rather because she just desperately wanted some fresh air. Finding out that Bucky had shown up and then left without a word to anyone but Natasha had hit her harder than she cared to admit. She wanted to talk to Steve about it, she really did, but she just felt like a needy hypocrite when she went to say it. He was the one who'd been ditched multiple times, not her. Hell, last time he'd been ditched, it had been her doing it.

It'd taken days to get Steve to just stop obsessing over that footage of Bucky just sitting on the bench and staring up at the tower. Vivian hadn't been much better. It'd been months since she'd seen Bucky and she'd been worried. She wasn't sure if he'd been eating well or if he had a safe place to stay. Judging by his clothing, hair, and demeanor, he seemed like he was doing well though.

The sun was just beginning to grow dark as she headed back to the tower. She still wasn't sure how to feel about anything, but the fresh air had done her good. She felt a little bit better. Or at least she did until she got to that bench. She could feel tears filling her eyes and it felt stupid to want to cry. It was just a bench, and it wasn't like Bucky was gone forever. He was coming back. He just wasn't back yet. She'd spent what felt like forever staring at that bench before she'd finally decided to go back.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

Smiling at Sam, Vivian rolled her eyes and got into the elevator with him while she scoffed, "You're the bird, not me."

Sam chuckled, but then his expression grew serious as he said, "Were you running?"

"No, god no," Vivian said. "I just needed some air. I'm not used to being able to carry a phone, so I accidentally left it in the tower." Sam's eyebrows raised and she sighed, "Seriously. That's it. That's all it was."

"Your boy was worried it was something more than that."

Vivian winced, resting her head against the wall of the elevator as she asked, "He okay?"

"No, he's not, but I convinced him not to run off after you."

"Thanks," Vivian sighed. She then glanced at the ceiling and asked, "Jarvis, take me to Steve please?"

"Of course."

"Hey Jarv, can you drop me off at the gym first?" Sam asked.

"Of course."

The elevator started up and Vivian frowned, "Sure you don't want to drop by for dinner?"

Sam snorted and shook his head, "Absolutely not. You get to deal with those puppy eyes on your own."

Vivian sighed and folded her arms across her chest. They were quiet for the rest of the ride, but then once the elevator stopped, Sam turned toward her and gently squeezed her arm. Glancing up at him, she smiled as he said, "Just talk to each other, all right? If either of you need help, you can ask me for it, but I have a feeling you'll be just fine."

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam nodded and left. Once the elevator door closed again, Vivian blew out a long breath. She knew Sam was right. She really did, but she also just didn't want to fuck things up. Too soon after the elevator dropped Sam off, the doors opened again and Vivian braced herself before she headed into the living room. It was quiet and empty, so she headed further into the apartment. The bedroom door was open, so she walked in and winced as she saw Steve sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Both of their cell phones were next to him.

"Considering how long I've had to adapt to modern times, you'd think I'd be really good about taking my phone places with me, but I'm actually really fucking bad about it."

Steve startled and glanced up, his eyes red rimmed. He looked like he wanted to stand up, but instead he kept his hands clenched by his legs as he whispered, "You weren't leaving?"

"No," Vivian sighed. "Definitely not. I am serious about the phone. I really thought I had it with me when I left to go on a walk. It's the only reason I didn't leave a note. I just wanted some fresh air and just needed time to think, that's all. I didn't realize I didn't have my phone until hours later. I would never just _ leave you _ like that."

Steve stood up and Vivian sighed with relief when he pulled her into her arms. Wrapping hers around his neck, she pressed her face against his neck as he whispered, "I thought--"

"I know," Vivian said, sighing as he carried her out of the bedroom. "I'm sorry. I promise next time, even if I know for sure I have my phone, I'll tell you or I'll tell Jarvis what I'm doing."

Steve sat her down on the counter of the kitchen and then she smiled when he whispered, "You eat anything today? I know you can get kind of--"

Vivian shook her head, "No, I haven't. Just too stuck in my own head. Feeling like a hypocrite."

"Why?"

Vivian scoffed, "Because I'm upset with Bucky for doing the exact same shit that I did to you."

"That's not--"

"What? It's not fair? It is though. I fucking left you. I was told I could go with you, and I left instead. Made you wait for _ months_."

Steve laced their fingers together and Vivian sighed when he whispered, "You didn't _ make _ me do anything. Besides, the X-Men were able to give you help that I couldn't."

"Do you think someone out there is helping Buck?"

Steve squeezed her hands, "Yeah, I do." He then leaned against the wall and said, "And I'm not mad at Buck. I just…" Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. "After everything the two of you went through…and I just _ let it happen_."

"Hey," Vivian said, shaking her head. "Don't talk like that. None of that was your fault. If you would have known, I know you would have tried to save us. Bucky knows that too."

Steve closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He took deep breaths before he replied, "There were things in that file. Footage. You _ still believed I'd save you_, even after I let you down for _ years_."

"Because you didn't let me down, Steve. You have never once, not in your entire goddamn life, ever let me down."

"You've said that before, but what if…" Steve shook his head. "I don't know."

"Are you going to change your mind about wanting me around?" Vivian whispered.

"_What_?" Steve gaped. "_No_! Of course not! God. None of that was your fault. None of that was Bucky's fault. It was just…" Steve shook his head. "Those monsters did this to us. It's their fault."

"I didn't survive those monsters desperately wishing I could be with you just to ditch you now, Steve. Bucky didn't either, and I have trouble believing it sometimes for myself, but we have to trust each other on this."

Steve hugged her tightly and she clung to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Vivian scrunched up her nose and sighed when Steve whispered, "All right. We'll work on it together."

"Good," Vivian said, smiling. She then sighed and winced as Steve pulled back and said, "But first, you've got to eat something. Either I cook for you or we order food, but you're going to eat something, all right?"

Vivian chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before she smiled, "Surprise me."

Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled, "You're a brat. Now go relax or something while I cook."

Vivian grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheek before hopping off the counter. She also, because she couldn’t help herself, slapped Steve on the ass as she walked away. She grinned as he chuckled and shook his head. For a moment it felt like they were back in that apartment in Brooklyn. There'd been so many times after long shifts at the hospital where she'd show up at the apartment only for Steve to wave her over to the couch. He'd cook and she'd sit there, waiting for food to be done and waiting for Bucky to get back from his jobs.

On those days, they just sat and ate together before curling up on the couch. It'd been blissful, like some wonderful dream. Vivian rubbed at her eyes and curled up on the couch. She wasn't even sure when they would get to have that again. _ Or if_. Vivian winced at that cruel thought, banished it. Bucky had told Natasha that he was coming back, and she had no reason to believe Bucky would give up on her now.

The elevator dinged and Vivian stood up, her brow furrowed in confusion. Normally Jarvis alerted them when someone was coming up to their floor, but now there'd been nothing. Standing in front of the elevator, she waited, prepared to tell Clint or Sam or whoever had decided to do this to not do it again. And then the doors opened and Vivian inhaled sharply, taking a step back.

"Hey Viv," Bucky whispered.

Vivian threw herself forward, her heart racing as Bucky caught her in his arms and held her close. She pressed her face against his neck, her entire body trembling as she just clung to the soft shirt he was wearing. His hands gently rubbed her back and she had to bite back a sob as he whispered, "Doll, you gotta breathe."

Vivian laughed, pulling back and gently running her fingers through Bucky's long hair as she said, "God, Steve's going to lose his mind when he sees you."

"Where is that punk anyway?" Bucky asked with a weak grin.

Vivian could hear the catch in his voice, and she smiled, running her fingers along his arms as she admitted, "Making dinner. Just waiting for his best guy to come home. Is he home?"

Bucky tilted his head back, his eyes watery. He nodded and Vivian stood on her tiptoes, cupping his face in her hands as she tilted it down and kissed him gently. They started moving back toward the couch, but then she stopped them, placing a hand against his chest while whispering, "God, I missed you."

"I missed you too," Bucky whispered, gently tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Hey Steve?" Vivian called out.

"Yeah, babe?"

"I've got a present for you," Vivian said, grinning widely.

"Food's almost done so just give me a few minutes."

Vivian grinned at Bucky as she whispered, "For the best we let him finish dinner. He'll get really mad at himself if he burns it."

"Pullin' out all the stops for me already?" Vivian winced and Bucky sighed, gently pressing his forehead against hers as he whispered, "Why do I get the feeling you're about to tell me somethin' that's gonna drive me crazy?"

"I maybe haven't actually eaten anything in, say…an entire day."

"_Viv_," Bucky groaned. "You're supposed to take better care of yourself."

"I usually do, I swear. Today was just…I got a little lost in my head is all. Wandered the streets for a bit."

"You were looking for me."

"Kind of," Vivian said, and then held up her hand when Bucky looked horrified. "It's more complicated than that, okay? It's also just not your fault. I forgot my phone. I don't know why I didn't eat, okay? It just, well, didn't happen."

"Viv, that's not good."

Vivian shrugged, "I _ am _ trying to do better about the whole…taking care of myself thing. Sometimes I mess up though. Usually Steve is there to remind me, but he was back here and I was wandering the streets. Without my phone."

Bucky sighed and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he whispered, "Am I gonna have to make you take care of yourself too?"

"Hmm, maybe," Vivian murmured with a smile. She giggled when he pinched her side.

"All right, food's ready. So what's this--"

Vivian looked over at Steve as he stared at Bucky with wide eyes. He was nearly trembling. Bucky pulled back and Vivian smiled as he weakly said, "Surprise?"

"Are you back or is this just you stopping by?" Steve whispered.

Vivian smiled as Bucky stepped away from her and walked slowly to Steve. Steve didn't move a muscle as he was approached, looking close to tears. A few tears did just slip down his cheeks as Bucky pressed his right hand to his cheek and said, "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"God, you're such a _ jerk_," Steve sobbed, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Punk," Bucky said, sounding close to tears as well.

Vivian carefully moved closer to them, smiling softly and just watching as Bucky pulled back, wiped the tears from Steve's face and then kissed him. The kiss was frantic, almost desperate. The two of them just clung to each other, stopping to gasp for air. Once they did though, Steve motioned her over, "C'mere."

Immediately Vivian rushed over and into their arms, grinning and laughing as they pressed her between them. Steve lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She leaned back against Bucky's chest, rolling her eyes as Bucky teased, "Well this will be fun."

"Yeah it'll be fun until Steve remembers what we were supposed to be doing 10 seconds from now," Vivian griped.

Steve's brow furrowed for a moment and Bucky buried his face in Vivian's neck to chuckle. After a couple seconds, Steve's eyes went wide and he just started carrying her over to the kitchen table. Vivian threw her head back and laughed as she was set down on a chair and Steve rushed over to the food.

Bucky sat down at the table and shook his head while teasing, "Hey, you brought this on yourself, doll."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Vivian sighed as Steve placed a plate of carbonara in front of her.

"You hungry, Buck? I have enough for all of us."

"Steve cooks enough for an army now," Vivian teased.

Steve blushed bright red and stammered, "I eat more, and you eat more, and I just want to make sure that we always have food!"

"I know, babe. I'm just messing with you," Vivian grinned, causing Steve to visibly relax.

"Yeah, I'll take some," Bucky chuckled.

Steve immediately placed a plate full of carbonara in front of Bucky before grabbing a plate for himself. It'd been lifetimes since the three of them had gotten to just sit and _ eat _ together. In between bites of food and sips of water, they all just kept smiling at each other. Once they were all done, Vivian grabbed all the dishes.

"Viv, c'mon. You don't have to do that," Steve sighed.

"Yes, I do, and besides, I'm just rinsing them and putting them into the dishwasher. You two go pick something for us to watch while cuddling or something."

Steve sent her a pointed stare, but she just waved him aside. Vivian then took the dishes to the sink and began rinsing. It wasn't long though before she realized her hands were just _ shaking_. Pausing and gripping the edge of the sink, Vivian leaned over it and forced herself to take deep breaths. She could hear the soft sounds of Steve and Bucky chatting on the couch. She could also feel her own heart in her throat and she bit down on her knuckle as an awful thought blared through her mind.

_Gay marriage is legal and Bucky's back so why the fuck would either of them ever need you_?

She knew that wasn't true. Steve had told her so. Steve had told her that he loved her. Bucky had told her that he loved her. They both loved her. She loved them. There had never been favorites with them. That's never how any of it worked.

_Lies they told you. They didn't mean it. Bucky didn't kiss you like he kissed Steve. They just haven't figured out a way to tell you to get lost, not without feeling guilty. You're a weight tied to their ankles. You're a punishment. Their lives would be easier without you in it._

Vivian shook her head and blinked back tears. She didn't know why these thoughts were back. She didn't understand. The day had started out a little crazy, but then it had gotten good. Bucky was back and she was happy about that. Eating dinner together again, even just quietly, had been such a blessing, and now she was falling apart in the kitchen while washing dishes. Her skin felt too tight, like pressure was building up in her body. She wanted to release that pressure. It all just felt wrong and a delirious part of her just knew that if she just cut a little bit it would just release the pressure. She'd feel better then.

Cold metal touched her wrist and she gasped, looking up as Bucky crouched in front of her, his hand gently wrapped around her wrist as he stared at her with a heartbroken expression. She was sitting on the ground, her back pressed against the kitchen cabinets. Bucky whispered, "Viv, kitten, can you hear me?"

Vivian nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered, "I don't know what happened."

"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you," Bucky said. His voice was warm and soothing. He kept his gaze on hers. Vivian looked up at Steve, who stood to the side. He anxiously chewed on his thumbnail, his hair mussed from fingers running and pulling at it. There were tears in his eyes.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Bucky said. Vivian looked back at him and he sighed, "Good. Okay, stay with me, all right?"

"I don't remember sitting down."

"That's okay. Remember when I used to lose time? What would you tell me?"

"That it wasn't your fault and that you were okay. That I was here for you."

"Good, good," Bucky said, gently cupping her face with his hand. He still held a gentle grip onto her wrist. She closed her eyes as he rubbed his thumb against his cheek and whispered, "Those things are all true right now, okay? I've got you. Steve's got you. Now where did you go?" Vivian winced and Bucky sighed, "Viv, tell me."

Vivian inhaled sharply and tilted her head back at the cabinet, staring up at the ceiling as she whispered, "I know it's not real. I know the words weren't true. I know it. I know that, but--"

"But it still worried you. Tell us what worried you."

"Gay marriage is legal now."

"I don't understand, why would that--"

Vivian tilted her head back down, staring Bucky in the eyes as she said, "Just that stupid part of my brain. It said things. Awful things. Things like how neither of you love me the way you love each other, and your lives would be easier without me in them. Only reason you keep me around is out of guilt."

Vivian didn't even know how to describe the sound that came out of Steve after he heard that. She bit her bottom lip as he knelt next to her and, with a trembling nearly broken voice, said, "_God_, Viv, that's not true. None of that is true. I love both of you so much. Bucky loves both of us. We're together because we _ all _ love each other. Guilt's got nothin' to do with any of this. Were you with me back before the war out of guilt?"

"No," Vivian whispered.

"I'm the luckiest goddamn guy in the world," Steve stressed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "The fact that I get to be with _ both of you _ is a blessing I don't know if I'll ever fucking deserve, but goddamn it, I'm not going to waste it."

"Steve's right," Bucky said. "It always has and always will be both of you for me. I'm not going to choose between you two."

A fresh wave of tears slipped down Vivian's cheeks as she choked out, "I don't understand why I'm feeling like this today."

"Shh, it's just a bad day," Steve said, rubbing her back.

"But it's not a bad day!" Vivian said, almost desperately. "Bucky came back! That makes it a great day! Why--"

Bucky pulled her close, running his fingers through her hair as he whispered, "Hey, it's okay. Just let us take care of you. Today's been a lot of ups and downs for you."

"Just let us help you through this bad day, alright? We'll get comfortable and we'll go to bed, okay? Tomorrow if you're still feeling bad, we'll have a lazy day together," Steve added.

"C'mon, doll, I'm going to take you to bed," Bucky said with a smile. He then stood up and picked her up, surprising a laugh out of her as he carried her with one arm.

"Show off," muttered Vivian.

"You like it?" Bucky whispered back. Vivian held up her hand in a 'a little bit' gesture and he snorted. She then pointed to the bedroom door, glancing back at Steve and smiling as he just looked at them like a lovestruck idiot. She motioned him closer and he pressed a kiss to her lips while Bucky scoffed, "Hey, that's not fair. Keep that up, Steve, and I won't carry you into the room next time."

"Yeah, you will, jerk," Steve chuckled.

"Such a fucking punk," Bucky murmured with a smile.

Vivian laughed as she was tossed onto the bed once they got there. She then buried her face into a pillow, whining as Steve gently squeezed her side and whispered, "C'mon, those clothes won't be comfortable to sleep in."

"Fine," Vivian grumbled, getting up and stripping down completely before laying down on the bed again. Steve and Bucky laughed but soon joined her in bed. Steve curled up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"We've got you," Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Just sleep."

Vivian pressed her face against Bucky's chest and shivered as cool metal fingertips brushed up and down her arm.

"He's right," Bucky whispered. "We're right here. We're not going anywhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUCKY'S BACK, Y'ALL. I'd say for sure next week's chapter would be them fucking but Vivian spontaneously had a panic attack while I wrote this chapter so things get wild, okay?
> 
> Overall consensus on the question I posed last week is that people either said they were fine with me splitting up the story however I felt was necessary, and the people with a preference said not to split it into four parts, so...we will see how wildly long this gets. lmaooo


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